SCENES  AT  WASHINGTON; 


STORY  OF  THE  LAST  GENERATION. 


BY 


A  CITIZEN   OF   BALTIMORE. 


NEW    YORK: 
HARPER    &    BROTHERS,    PUBLISHERS. 

1848. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1848,  by 
HARPER    &    BROTHERS, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States  for  the 
Southern  District  of  New  York. 


SCENE      AT   WASHINGTON, 


CHAPTER  I. 

"  FOOL  !  fool !"  she  cried,  stamping  her  little  foot  violently 
on  the  floor,  as  she  entered  the  room,  and  throwing  her 
beautiful  head  into  its  loftiest  attitude. 

"Who  is  it,  sister,  you  are  honoring  with  that  fine 
epithet?" 

Instead  of  a  reply,  the  same  expressions  were  repeated, 
while  the  face  of  the  speaker  betrayed  evident  marks  of 
agitation  from  something  she  had  just  heard. 

"  Well,  but  what  is  it  ?  Perhaps  if  you  tell  me,  in  giving 
vent  to  your  ill-humor  in  words,  you  will  find  some  relief: 
anyhow,  you  will  save  your  foot  which,  as  you  are  using 
it,  is  in  some  danger  of  bruises,  at  least." 

"  Why,  there  is  Dr.  Leslie  down  stairs,  and  I  have  just 
heard  him  tell  mamma  that  his  nephew  Charles  is  become 
religious.  What  a  fool !  who  would  have  thought  it  ?  The 
last  thing  I  could  have  supposed  would  have  entered  into 
his  thinking  head  !" 

"  You  take  it  very  much  to  heart,  anyhow,  sister ;  and  I 
see  how  it  is  plainly  enough.  After  all  your  by- play  with 

M269053 


SCENES  AT  WASHINGTON. 


Mr.  Dickens  and  others,  it  is  clear  that  you  like  Charles 
better  than  you  do  any  of  them  :  or,  why  else  do  you  show 
this  irritation  ?  However,  if  you  will  only  keep  in  your 
present  mood,  it  will  be  all  the  better  for  me,  for  you  know 
that  Charles  promised  to  wait  for  me,  provided  I  would  be 
a  sober  girl,  and  learn  to  be  a  good  housekeeper.  But 
compose  yourself.  Charles's  father  has  died  lately,  you 
know,  and  he  is  expected  from  Washington  to  see  his 
mother  :  we  can  then  have  from  himself  the  reasons  for  his 
conduct." 

"  Reasons,  indeed  !  He  is  a  fool,  I  tell  you,  Agnes,  or 
else  he  is  crazy,  and  I  don't  care  which, — it  is  nothing  to 
me." 

"  As  to  his  being  a  fool,  this  is  the  first  time  I  ever  heard 
you  say  anything  like  that  of  him,  nor  do  I,  for  myself,  feel 
disposed  to  think  he  is  crazy." 

"  He  has  certainly  got  an  able  advocate  in  you,  Agnes, 
and  I  advise  you  to  make  haste  and  perfect  yourself  in 
housekeeping  :  you  can  then  remind  him  of  his  promise. 
But  seriously,  this  is  a  bad  affair.  Religion,  to  be  sure,  is 
a  thing  very  much  to  be  desired  when  one  is  going  out  of 
the  world  ;  but  while  we  are  in  the  full  possession  of  its 
splendors  and  favors,  c'est  une  autre  chose.  Charles  is  cer 
tainly  a  great  fool  to  resign  all  these,  and  connect  himself 
with  a  demure  sort  of  folks,  who  think  it  a  sin  to  laugh. 
Besides,  I  suppose  he  must  bend  that  tall  and  elegant  figure 
down  to  the  lowly  slouch  of  humility.  It  is  too  ridiculous  ! 
And  then,  too,  he  must  lose  caste,  and  what  a  loss  to  so 
ciety.  Very  few  men  can  talk  like  Charles  Leslie.  And 
further,  he  will  never  dance  again  ;  but  that  is  of  no  con- 


SCENES  AT  WASHINGTON. 


sequence,  for  I  never  liked  to  see  him  dance.  Then  only 
I  could  laugh  at  him  ;  but  as  soon  as  he  led  his  partner  to 
her  seat,  his  high  bearing  commanded  my  respect  again. 
Dancing,  I  see,  is  suited  to  boys  and  girls  only.  A  man 
that  can  talk,  ought  never  to  dance  ;  but  if  he  cannot  talk 
at  a  party  or  a  ball,  I  give  my  consent  that  he  make  him 
self  less  ridiculous  by  dancing." 

"  Ah,  sister,"  said  Agnes,  laughing,  "  you  have  made  a 
long  speech,  and  convinced  me  that  this  is  indeed  a  sad 
affair." 

"  It  is  nothing  to  me.  The  world  is  made  up  of  all  sorts 
of  people  :  what  one  society  loses,  another  must  gain.  I 
have  just  begun  to  look  at  one  side  of  it,  and  it  is  fair  and 
promises  much.  I  leave  Mr.  Charles  Leslie  to  look  at  the 
other." 

This  conversation  passed  some  time  in  the  year  1807, 
between  two  sisters,  Clara  and  Agnes  Sydenham. 

Mr.  Sydenham  was  one  of  our  old  patriots,  who  warmly 
espoused  the  cause  of  his  native  country,  in  her  great 
struggle  for  Independence.  Having  borne  arms  in  support 
of  the  principles  which  he  clearly  saw  were  his  birth-right, 
he  contributed  also  by  his  counsels  and  efforts  to  form  and 
set  in  motion  the  new  government  of  Maryland.  After  the 
peace  of  1783,  he  intermarried  with  Miss  Clara  Courtenay, 
a  descendant  from  the  gentleman  of  that  name,  who  came 
as  one  of  the  first  settlers  in  our  state,  in  the  train  of  Lord 
Baltimore.  The  ladies  of  our  old  families  were  of  a  style, 
and  manners,  and  principles,  as  unlike  as  superior  to  those 
of  the  present  generation.  Modesty,  dignity,  reserve,  were 
their  principal  characteristics.  When  brought  into  com- 


SCENES   AT   WASHINGTON. 


pany,  the  young  aspirant  was  taught  as  well  the  courtesy 
of  her  own  sex  towards  the  other,  as  the  deference  and  re 
spect  which  the  other  was  bound  to  pay  to  hers.  Even  in 
their  amusements,  the  same  modesty  and  reserve  were  per 
ceived  ;  for  in  the  grave  minuet,  the  lady  was  seen  moving 
in  the  figure  slowly,  and  at  a  distance  from  her  partner,  and 
when  it  was  over,  he  led  her  to  her  seat  by  the  tips  of  her 
fingers.  What  would  women  then  have  thought  of  the 
wanton,  licentious  waltz  !  Education,  in  every  way,  in 
those  days,  was  to  fit  young  women  to  make  useful  mothers  ; 
and  not  by  a  system,  enervating  both  mind  and  body,  dis 
qualify  them  utterly  for  the  discharge  of  those  sterner  duties 
which  must  always  follow  the  mere  dreams  of  our  youth. 
Mrs.  Sydenham  was  eminently  a  lady  of  those  olden  times, 
many  of  whom,  at  the  period  this  narrative  begins,  were 
still  alive  in  Maryland,  showing  to  the  rising  generation  of 
women  in  the  new  republic  what  women  had  been  under 
the  colonial  government.  The  family  consisted  of  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Sydenham,  Clara  and  Agnes,  and  Frederick,  a  prom 
ising  lad  of  fifteen,  then  at  college.  The  eldest  daughter 
had  died  two  years  before. 

Clara,  just  nineteen,  was  a  character  of  no  common 
order.  Without  being  critically  beautiful,  her  features  were 
strongly  attractive,  while  her  manners  threw  around  her  a 
grace  which  was  altogether  irresistible  by  those  whom  she 
wished  to  please.  This,  however,  she  was  not  always  dis 
posed  to  do.  Her  pride  was  excessive  ;  but  her  judgment 
was  excellent,  and  her  sensibility  of  the  acutest  kind. 
Thus  constituted  by  nature,  with  her  education  embellished 
by  the  accomplishments  which  were  then  beginning  to  be 


SCENES   AT   WASHINGTON. 


general  in  society,  and  her  principles  formed  by  her  mother, 
this  interesting  girl  commenced  a  life  whose  trials  were  to 
be  as  severe  as  they  were  extended  through  years. 

Agnes  was  just  seventeen  :  a  rose  yet  in  the  bud,  but 
giving  the  fairest  promise  of  expanding  into  surpassing 
loveliness :  and  such,  time  proved  her  to  be.  Gentle  and 
beautiful  being,  thou  wert,  indeed,  a  flower  that  bloomed 
and  died  too  soon  ! 

Clara  already  had  many  admirers ;  but  keenly  sensitive 
to  whatever  was  not  correct  in  manners,  or  striking  in  in 
tellect,  the  gay  beaux  who  fluttered  around  her  were  oftener 
the  subjects  of  her  ridicule  for  their  deficiencies,  than  claim 
ants  upon  her  preference,  from  their  admiration.  But 
amongst  the  many  who  were  in  her  train,  she  found  Charles 
Leslie  very  little  disposed  to  flatter  her.  Deeply  attached 
to  her,  and,  of  course,  jealous  of  all  who  approached  her, 
he  never  failed  to  show  off  all  her  admirers  little  to  their 
advantage,  or  to  censure  her  own  behavior,  if  it  did  not  ex 
actly  meet  his  fastidious  ideas  of  grace  and  propriety.  The 
consequence  was  repeated  quarrels,  which,  though  Ihey 
convinced  Clara  that  Charles  felt  an  interest  for  her,  had 
not  as  yet  made  her  aware  of  the  extent  of  his  feelings,  nor 
did  he  believe  that  she  had  any  for  him,  beyond  those  of 
respect  for  his  character. 

Charles  Leslie,  also,  was  a  descendant  from  two  of  the 
oldest  families  that  had  emigrated  to  our  state.  His  grand 
father,  by  the  maternal  line,  was  an  agent  for  the  Lord 
Proprietary  at  an  early  period  of  the  revolution,  but  had 
left  no  sons.  His  grandfather,  by  the  paternal  line,  was  a 
Scotch  physician  of  eminence  in  his  profession,  who  had 


SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON. 


married  in  his  adopted  country  soon  after  his  arrival,  and, 
when  the  war  of  Independence  commenced,  it  found  him 
with  his  sons  engaged  against  the  king.  Charles  was  the 
only  son  of  the  eldest,  who  had  just  deceased. 

As  the  two  sisters  closed  the  conversation  already  re 
lated,  their  servant  girl  entered  the  room,  and  requested 
their  attendance  in  the  parlor,  where  a  gentleman  who  had 
just  come,  wished  to  see  them. 

Upon  entering  the  room,  they  found  Charles  Leslie  seated 
on  the  sofa  with  Mrs.  Sydendam,  and  conversing  with  her, 
but  she  soon  retired  after  the  sisters  came  in.  His  coun 
tenance  bore  marks  of  the  recent  bereavement  in  his 
family ;  and  his  deportment,  though  easy  and  natural, 
showed  a  mental  chastening,  correcting  in  some  measure 
his  usual  flow  of  spirits.  He  rose  from  his  seat  at  their 
entrance,  and,  giving  a  hand  to  each  of  the  sisters,  ex 
pressed  the  pleasure  he  had  in  meeting  them  after  an 
absence  of  more  than  a  year.  "  How  much  you  are  im 
proved,  Clara,  as  to  externals,"  he  said ;  "  are  you  as  light- 
hearted  and  giddy  as  ever  ?" 

"  That  she  is,  Charles,"  said  Agnes.  "  What  do  you  think 
she  made  Mr.  Dickens  do  the  other  day?  I  told  her  I 
would  let  you  know  of  it." 

"  Something  outre  enough,  as  the  French  say,  I  am  sure. 
But  what  was  it,  Agnes  ?" 

"Why,  Mr.  Dickens  was  paying  his  usual  morning  at 
tendance  last  week,  and  making  his  way  into  sister's  good 
graces  by  all  the  flourishes  he  was  capable  of.  Amongst 
other  conversation,  he  asked  her  opinion  of  the  cut  of  his 
new  coat." — 


SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON. 


"  'A  new  coat,'  said  sister,  '  and  a  very  handsome  one  it 
is,  too  ;  it  shows  off  so  well  the  fall  of  your  shoulders,' — 
(which  you  know,  Charles,  are  remarkably  broad  and  high) 
1  walk  across  the  room,  Mr.  Dickens, — turn  round — round 
again,' — (sister  all  the  time  looking  very  demure) — '  the 
skirts  are  too  long — too  long  by  four  inches,'  she  said  ;  '  it 
destroys  the  symmetry  and  grace  of  the  whole  figure  :  the 
skirts  must  be  cut.' 

" « Cut,  Miss  Clara  ?'  said  Mr.  Dickens,  in  alarm. 

"  *  Certainly,  they  must  be  cut  four  inches  shorter,'  said 
sister,  '  or  the  height  and  grace  of  the  figure  will  be  de 
stroyed  entirely.  Look,  Agnes,  do  not  these  long  skirts 
make  Mr.  Dickens  look  like  an  ordinary  man  ?' 

"  *  I  have  no  taste,  sister,'  I  replied,  '  in  these  matters,  and 
you  know  you  will  not  allow  that  I  have  any  even  in  my 
own  dress.'  I  now  began  to  pity  poor  Mr.  Dickens,  for  I 
saw  that  his  really  handsome  coat  was  doomed. 

"  But  he  still  held  out.  *  You  are  surely  jesting,  Miss 
Clara,'  he  said.  '  My  tailor  assured  me  that  this  was  the 
handsomest  coat  he  had  ever  turned  out  of  his  shop.' 

"  *  A  tailor's  taste  !'  said  sister.  i  Perhaps  the  coat  had 
laid  in  his  shop  a  year,  made  for  some  one  who  refused  to 
take  it  on  account  of  the  long  skirts.  No  gentleman  of 
taste  would  be  seen  with  it  on  in  the  streets.' 

"  *  How  much  did  you  say  must  be  cut  off?'  inquired  Mr. 
Dickens. 

" '  Four  inches,  at  least,'  replied  sister. 

"  *  Have  you  a  pair  of  scissors,  Miss  Clara  ?' 

" '  I  don't  know  that  I  have,'  replied  sister,  carelessly,  and 
walking  off. 


10  SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON. 


" '  Stay,  Miss  Clara/  said  Mr.  Dickens,  taking  a  pair  of 
scissors  from  my  work-basket,  *  and  direct  me  what  to 
cut.' 

"'I  direct  nothing  about  it,  Mr.  Dickens,'  said  sister. 
*  Pray,  don't  spoil  the  handsomest  coat  your  tailor  ever 
made.  I  only  said  that  the  skirts  reach  four  inches  beyond 
the  line  of  grace.'  I  saw  a  smile  playing  around  her 
mouth,  and  mischief  in  her  eye,  as  Mr.  Dickens,  using  the 
scissors,  the  proscribed  four  inches  soon  lay  on  the  carpet. 

" '  Now,  Mr.  Dickens,'  said  sister,  4  go  and  show  yourself 
in  Fair  street.'  Off  he  went  accordingly,  leaving  her  in  a 
violent  fit  of  laughter.  Mamma  scolded  her  for  it,  and  the 
only  excuse  she  had  was,  that '  she  always  helped  her  friends 
to  sustain  the  character  they  chose  to  sport,  and  as  Mr. 
Dickens  had  chosen  folly,  she  had  only  helped  him  to  the 
badge.' " 

"  This  is  a  novel  mode  of  winning  a  lady,"  said  Charles, 
"  and,  I  must  needs  say,  an  expensive  one.  I  congratulate 
you.  Miss  Clara  Sydenham,  that  your  love  of  admiration 
has  supplied  you  with  such  a  new  mode  of  amusement,  and 
that  you  are  content  to  have  admirers,  though  you  make 
them  appear  like  fools." 

"  Content  to  have  admirers  !"  she  replied,  with  a  toss  of 
her  head,  and  her  face  flushed  at  the  implied  censure.  She 
then  determined  to  vindicate  herself,  though,  from  an  innate 
sense  of  propriety,  feeling,  at  the  same  time,  that  she  had 
not  acted  altogether  right. 

"  You  appear,  Mr.  Leslie,"  said  she,  "  to  sympathize  with 
Mr.  Dickens  for  the  ludicrous  appearance  he  must  have 
made  ;  but  to  be  compelled  to  find  entertainment  for  an 


SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON.  11 

hour  every  morning  for  a  man  without  an  idea  beyond  his 
docket  and  fee,  is  a  tax  which  I  will  not  pay  to  the  vanity 
or  pretensions  of  any  one.  Everybody  is  expected  to 
bring  into  society  some  talent,  intelligence  or  grace,  to  add 
to  the  general  fund  of  interest  or  amusement ;  but  when  a 
buffoon  intrudes,  good  taste  and  refinement  must  not  be 
compromised  :  he  must  be  dismissed,  and  if  the  cut  oblique 
will  not  do,  the  cut  direct  must  be  used.  As  to  the  ex 
pense,  you  may  be  sure  that  Mr.  Dickens  will  not  fail,  in 
order  to  make  up  his  loss,  to  trim  his  next  client  as  close  as 
he  did  his  coat." 

Charles  saw  that  Clara  had  been  hurt  by  his  remark,  and 
taking  her  hand,  said,  "  You  have  defended  yourself  ingeni 
ously,  I  admit,  but  your  tell-tale  face  shows  plainly  all  the 
while  that  you  are  not  insensible  to  the  injury  you  have 
done  to  Mr.  Dickens's  feelings." 

"  You  mistake  the  matter  altogether,"  she  replied.  "  Mr. 
Dickens  has  no  feelings  that  could  be  aroused  to  the  high 
bearing  of  the  gentleman." 

"  If  you  will  have  it  so,  then  be  it  so,"  said  Charles* 
"  But  in  making  him  ridiculous  in  so  strange  a  mode,  are 
you  not  lowering  your  own  dignity  ?  When  will  you  be  a 
woman  in  your  views  and  conduct  ?" 

"  When  I  am  a  woman :  as  yet  I  am  in  my  teens  only." 

"  And  there  likely  to  remain,"  was  the  grave  answer. 

"  Mr.  Charles  Leslie,  that  is  no  business  of  yours,"  re 
plied  Clara.  "  See  to  your  own  conduct  before  you  make 
so  free  with  mine.  Recollect  the  flirtation  you  kept  up 
with  your  cousin  Christina, — how  you  engaged  her  in  a 
correspondence — amused  yourself  in  your  own  sober  man- 


12  SCENES    AT   WASHINGTON. 

ner,  as  I  suppose  you  would  call  it, — then  tired  of  it — and 
very  likely  now  employ  your  leisure  moments  at  Washing 
ton  in  the  same  agreeable  way,  with  some  one  else." 

"  I  plead  guilty,"  said  Charles,  "  to  writing  twice  to 
Christina,  and  deny  all  the  rest.  Flirtations,  as  I  believe 
you  call  them,  are  not  according  to  my  principles  or  taste. 
My  cousin  had  fine  sense,  a  cultivated  understanding,  and 
was  very  agreeable  in  conversation  :  but  I  had  no  feelings 
for  her  other  than  those  of  a  near  relative,  and  I  am  very 
sure  that  such  a  thought  as  cutting  off  the  skirts  of  my 
coat  never  entered  into  her  head." 

"  You  must  permit  me,"  replied  Clara,  "  to  believe  just 
as  much  of  all  this  as  I  see  proper  ;  and  as  to  the  skirt- 
cutting,  which  you  will  be  harping  upon,  I  am  not  answer 
able  to  you  for  my  behavior  to  any  of  my  captives.  I 
have  a  right  to  treat  them  as  I  please,  and  I  will." 

"  And  if  you  cause  a  gentleman,"  said  Charles,  "  to  spoil 
another  coat,  I  shall  say  you  behave  very  badly." 

Here  the  fair  girl  lost  all  patience.  "  Mr.  Leslie,"  said 
she,  "  it  is  a  long  time  since  your  absence  has  released  me 
from  animadversions  upon  my  manners.  I  might  have 
hoped  that,  at  last,  you  had  learned  that  you  have  taken  a 
liberty  which  I  find  irksome." 

"  I  don't  care  if  you  do,"  said  Charles.  "  Say  what  you 
please,  but  I  will  find  fault  if  you  give  cause.  I  have  too 
much  regard  for  you  to  leave  you  to  yourself,  especially," 
(added  he  smiling,)  "  seeing  how  little  able  you  are  to  go 
alone.  But  as  I  am  not  in  a  disposition  just  now  for  a 
quarrel,  I  wish  you  a  pleasanter  morning  in  future.  Adieu, 
Agnes ;  your  French  will  give  you  the  meaning  of  the 


SCENES  AT  WASHINGTON.  13 

word."  So  saying,  he  took  up  his  hat,  and,  bowing  to  the 
two  sisters,  left  the  room. 

He  was  barely  out  of  hearing  when  Clara  exclaimed, 
"  Was  there  ever  such  another  vexing  fellow  as  Charles 
Leslie  ? — always  finding  fault  with  me  !  And  such  a 
selecter  of  words  !  '  Too  much  regard  for  me,'  he  says. 
Any  other  word  I  could  have  made  something  out  of, — 
of  that,  nothing.  Never  mind,  wait  a  little  :  I  will  see  if  I 
cannot  bend  him  yet  into  somewhat  of  the  shape  I  make 
others  take  at  my  bidding." 

"  I  doubt  it,  sister,"  said  Agnes.  "  Charles  Leslie,  I  see 
plainly,  is  stiffer  than  ever.  You  are  playing  a  difficult 
game,  and  present  probabilities  are,  that  you  will  lose  it." 

Charles  Leslie  was  descending  the  flight  of  steps  which 
led  to  the  street.  "  Proud  girl  !"  he  muttered  to  himself, 
"  it  shall  go  hard  with  me,  but  I  will  teach  you  something 
of  yourself  you  do  not  yet  know.  But  I  must  see  my  uncle  ; 
my  new  principles  may  gain  strength  from  his  counsel 
and  experience  ;  and,  in  truth,  I  see  already  that  this  at 
tachment  will  test  them  cruelly,  I  fear,  and  long." 

He  then  wended  his  way  to  Mr.  Townsend's,  the  doctor's 
son-in-law,  where  he  found  him.  "  My  dear  nephew,  how 
glad  I  am  to  see  you,"  cried  the  old  man,  throwing  his 
arms  around  him.  "  I  rejoice  over  you,  and  love  you  as 
my  own  son.  Hold  fast  whereunto  you  have  attained  ;  let 
none  take  your  crown." 

"  Very  good  counsel  that,  doctor,"  said  Mr.  Townsend. 
"  The  crown,  I  fear,  is  already  in  danger,  for  the  report  is, 
that  your  nephew  is  much  attached  to  Miss  Clara  Syden- 
ham,  and  I  am  sure  she  has  no  more  thoughts  of  religion 


14  SCENES  AT  WASHINGTON. 

than  a  heathen."  These  words  pierced  through  Charles 
Leslie  like  an  arrow.  He  commanded  himself,  however  ; 
the  conversation  became  general,  and  the  day  passed  off  in 
an  interchange  of  feelings  and  thoughts  which  his  new 
views  of  life,  its  duties  and  hopes,  always  induce. 

Night  brought  deeper  reflection  and  a  more  rigid  exami 
nation  of  himself.  "  This  is  a  bitter  trial,  and  I  feel  it 
through  every  fibre,"  he  said,  communing  with  himself. 
"  What  a  face  !  every  emotion  of  her  mind  is  reflected  in 
it  in  a  moment !  What  depth  of  feeling  hidden  under  so 
much  levity  !  What  an  understanding !  What  powers  of 
conversation  when  she  pleases  to  exert  them  !  And  yet, 
not  one  single  serious  thought  can  I  ever  discover  ! 
Music — the  dance — flirtations  with  a  set  of  fools  and  cox 
combs,  is  all  that  engages  her.  Why  then  do  I  suffer  my 
self  to  think  of  an  object  which,  though  so  beautiful,  has 
no  relation  to  that  course  of  life  which  my  principles  now 
force  me  to  follow  ?  And  how  is  such  a  course  of  life  to 
be  persevered  in,  were  she  mine  ?  Mine  !  What  a  thought ! 
I  see  no  prospect  of  any  conformity  to  my  views,  and  it  is 
distraction — madness — to  indulge  any  hope  of  it.  My 
uncle's  words  and  Mr.  Townsend's  remarks  ring  in  my 
ears.  I  must  stop." 

But  the  struggle,  so  far  from  being  over,  was  but  just 
begun.  Youth  may  have  its  likings,  its  attachments,  but 
the  man  who  once,  after  twenty-three  years  of  age,  finds  his 
affections  engaged,  very  rarely,  indeed,  loses  entirely  the 
impressions  he  has  felt.  The  world  may  demand  his  efforts, 
— ambition  may  solicit  his  attention — other  female  loveli 
ness  may  cross  his  path,  but  the  first  love  has  left  its  stamp, 


SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON.  15 

which  nothing  can  utterly  efface.  The  needle  may  vibrate 
if  it  be  shaken,  but  soon  again  settles  at  the  cardinal  point. 
So  Charles  Leslie  found  it.  "  But  am  I  not  judging  her 
harshly  ?"  he  said.  "  How  do  I  know  she  cannot  see, — that 
my  road  is  safer  and  pleasanter  than  hers  ?  Is  it  not  pos 
sible  I  can  convince  her  that  religious  principles  give  the 
strongest  securities  for  her  happiness  ?  That  she  will  be 
safer  in  trusting  to  them  than  to  those  which  the  fashion 
able  world  may  adopt  ?  Anyhow,  it  is  but  fair  to  try 
before  I  give  her  up,  and  I  will  take  the  first  opportunity  I 
can  to  explain  myself  fully  as  to  the  change  in  my  own 
views  and  course  of  life." 

He  determined  to  return  the  next  day  to  Mr.  Sy den- 
ham's,  but  with  a  consciousness  about  him  that  his  frequent 
visits  might  be  noticed,  instead  of  taking  the  direct  route, 
he  determined  to  take  one  more  circuitous  and  less  exposed 
to  observation.  As  he  turned  the  corner  of  the  street,  he 
saw  Clara,  with  several  young  ladies,  standing  near  the 
paling,  in  conversation  with  a  lady  in  her  garden,  and  he 
immediately  joined  them.  "  I  am  on  my  way  to  your 
father's,  Miss  Clara,"  said  he  ;  "  my  leave  of  absence  will 
soon  be  out,  when  I  must  return  to  Washington,  and  I  have 
had  as  yet  but  little  conversation  with  your  mother,  and 
little  with  yourself  to  your  satisfaction,  if  I  may  judge  from 
your  language  to  me.  Will  you  give  me  the  pleasure  of 
your  company  home  ?" 

"  Yes,  if  it  will  be  any  pleasure  to  you." 

"Is  it  possible  you  can  doubt  that?" 

"  I  know  not  how  I  can  do  otherwise,"  she  replied.    "  You 


16  SCENES  AT  WASHINGTON. 

are  always  finding  fault  with  me.  You  speak  harshly,  and 
condemn  me  unjustly." 

"  Look  at  me,  Clara,"  said  Charles.  She  cast  her  dark, 
hazel  eyes  upon  him,  but  it  was  for  a  moment  only.  They 
fell  beneath  the  ardent  gaze  which  she  saw  riveted  upon 
her,  and  which  so  truly  told  the  emotions  which  were 
struggling  for  utterance.  They  had  now  reached  Mr. 
Sydenham's,  and  were  standing  in  the  doorway. 

"  You  little  know  me,  my  sweet  friend,"  said  Charles, 
"  or  care  nothing  for  feelings  which,  when  aroused,  I  man 
age  with  little  judgment,  I  must  admit." 

"  Very  strange  feelings  they  must  be,  Mr.  Leslie,"  she 
replied,  "  which  prompt  you  to  speak  so  harshly,  and  judge 
so  unkindly." 

"  It  is  painful  to  me,"  said  Charles,  "  to  hear  you  say 
this,  though  from  appearances  you  may  have  cause.  I 
know  not  how  to  defend  myself  from  the  charge,  but  in 
explaining  the  reasons  of  my  own  conduct,  and  the  extent 
of  my  own  feelings.  May  I  do  this,  and  will  you  listen 
to  me  with  candor?  It  is  very  possible  that  you  will  not 
admit  my  justification  to  be  sufficient,  but  your  generosity, 
I  trust,  will  at  least  receive  it  as  an  extenuation  of  my 
offence." 

Clara  gave  no  answer,  but  had  turned  her  face  aside ; 
and  thus  they  stood,  the  scales  hanging  upon  the  weight  of 
an  atom.  It  was  against  them.  Mr.  Sydenham  came  up 
at  the  moment,  and  commencing  a  conversation  with 
Charles,  they  all  entered  the  parlor. 


SCENES   AT   WASHINGTON.  17 


CHAPTER    II. 

"  I  AM  glad  to  see  you,  Charles,"  said  Mrs.  Sydenharn, 
accosting  him  in  her  usual  familiar  and  affectionate  manner, 
after  Mr.  Sydenham  had  discussed  politics  and  retired. 
"  How  long  will  you  be  with  us  ?" 

"  A  day  or  two  more  only,  madam,"  was  the  reply. 
"  My  leave  of  absence  is  nearly  out,  and  I  have  but  little 
time  to  make  the  arrangements  which  are  required  for  my 
mother  under  her  late  bereavement." 

"I  am  pleased  to  learn,"  said  Mrs.  Sydenham,  "that 
your  attention  is  so  directed.  But  what  is  this  your  uncle 
has  told  me  ?  Is  it  true  that  you  have  taken  a  religious 
turn  ?  People  usually  attach  the  idea  of  gloomy  spirits  to 
religion,  but  I  see  nothing  of  that  about  you,  as  far  as  I  can 
judge  ;  on  the  contrary,  you  appear  as  cheerful  as  is  proper, 
though  not  so  gay  as  I  have  seen  you  formerly." 

"  The  nature  of  Christianity,  my  dear  madam,"  replied 
Charles,  "  is  often  greatly  mistaken.  It  makes  none  who 
know  its  power,  gloomy ;  on  the  contrary,  it  gives  new 
enjoyments  in  giving  new  and  more  glorious  objects  of  pur 
suit." 

"  But  you  have  been  absent  from  us  but  little  more  than 
a  year,"  said  Mrs.  Sydenham,  "  and  how  is  it  that  so  great 
a  change  has  passed  upon  you  in  so  short  a  time  ?" 


18  SCENES    AT   WASHINGTON. 


"  It  will  give  me  pleasure,  madam,"  said  Charles  Leslie, 
"  to  answer  you, — indeed,  since  my  return,  I  have  wished 
it.  In  doing  so,  I  will  tell  you  how  this  change  was  in 
duced  ;  the  principles  of  conduct  it  inculcates,  and  the 
foundation  upon  which  they  are  laid. 

"  The  first  step  I  made  was  reflection  ;  in  the  language 
of  the  Scriptures,  consideration.  Some  circumstances  with 
which  it  is  not  necessary  to  trouble  you,  forced  this  upon 
me.  I  thought  of  life,  its  pleasures,  its  duties,  their  oppo 
sition  to  each  other,  of  which  my  own  thoughts  gave  me 
incessant  admonitions.  Two  adverse  and  conflicting  prin 
ciples,  seemed  to  wage  within  me  a  war  which  could  end 
only  in  the  destruction  of  one  or  the  other.  To  harmonize 
them,  even  in  the  slightest  degree,  was,  from  their  very 
nature,  impossible.  I  then  considered  the  final  destiny  of 
man.  Here  the  doctrines  of  Christianity  came  into  view. 
They  everywhere  proclaimed  the  apostasy  of  man — his 
alienation  of  heart  from  the  Supreme  Good — his  violation 
of  the  holy  law  of  his  Creator  and  Sovereign — the  prom 
ise  of  pardon  to  every  returning  and  repentant  prodigal, 
through  the  merits  of  the  Saviour — and  to  such  they  held 
forth  a  thousand  promises  of  indescribable  blessedness ; 
while  to  the  obstinately  rebellious,  they  denounced  the  just 
judgment  of  their  incensed  Creator.  But  Christianity  was 
violently  attacked.  The  Bible  was  refused  as  'a  guide 
and  as  a  lamp  to  our  feet ;'  and  all  that  Voltaire,  Hume, 
Gibbon,  and  a  host  of  others,  had  written,  with  all  Paine's 
works,  were  arrayed  anew  against  it.  But  I  knew  also, 
that  Milton,  Newton,  Pascal,  Boyle,  and  others  not  less 
celebrated,  had  supported  its  authenticity.  I  could  not 


SCENES   AT   WASHINGTON.  19 

then  give  up  the  Bible.  But  all  these  conflicting  opinions  of 
great  men  had  little  to  do  with  the  consciousness  I  carried 
within  me,  'Of  Sin,  Righteousness,  and  a  Judgment  to 
come.'  The  light  that  lighteth  every  man  that  cometh  into 
the  world,  was  now  shining  upon  me,  and  I  determined  to 
make  some  zealous  efforts  to  obtain  the  favor  of  that  Great 
Being  who  has  called  himself  our  Father,  and  thus  secure 
hope  beyond  the  grave.  I  began  to  pray,  in  sincerity 
indeed,  but  in  much  ignorance ;  and  the  efforts,  imperfect 
as  they  were,  were  attended  with  a  degree  of  peace  I  had 
never  known  before.  Even  my  besetting  sin  seemed  van 
quished.  But  I  soon  found  my  mistake.  It  returned,  I  was 
again  slain  by  my  enemy,  and  I  could  with  the  great  Apos 
tle  to  the  Gentiles  cry  out  in  bitterness  of  soul,  '  Who  shall 
deliver  me  from  this  body  of  death  !'  I  had  not  yet  learned 
to  pray  through  the  merits  of  the  Redeemer.  This  was  my 
state  when  I  went  to  Washington. 

"  I  had  there,  of  course,  but  few  acquaintances,  but  much 
time  I  could  call  my  own,  when  released  from  the  usual 
routine  of  duties  in  the  public,  employment.  The  conse 
quence  was,  my  mind  was  thrown  back  upon  itself,  with  a 
vast  increase  of  uneasiness  as  it  related  to  my  eternal  des 
tiny.  I  could  take  no  pleasure  in  the  amusements  in  which 
I  was  once  accustomed  to  engage  with  so  much  life :  even 
nature  itself  seemed  covered  over  with  gloom.  The  clouds 
became  blacker  and  heavier.  Even  the  night  brought  no 
relief;  for  I  was  so  tormented  in  dreams,  I  have  prayed 
bitterly,  that  I  might  sleep  one  night  in  peace.  Truly,  I 
drank  « the  wormwood  and  the  gall.'  At  length  I  deter 
mined  to  seek  a  place  of  worship.  Still  it  was  no  better 


20  SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON. 

with  me ;  in  fact,  worse.  The  Gospel  proclaimed  all  to 
be  sinners  in  the  sight  of  God,  and  1  felt  the  truth  of  it.  A 
condemnation  was  upon  me,  from  which  none  but  the  Great 
Judge  himself  could  absolve  me.  But  would  He  ?  This 
was  now  the  question,  and  a  most  awful  one  it  was.  I  had 
nothing  to  offer  as  an  excuse,  much  less  in  satisfaction  to 
justice  for  the  violated  law  imperatively  demanding  the 
punishment  of  the  guilty  offender.  Language  is  utterly 
inadequate  to  describe  this  terrific  state,  by  which  the  sin 
ner  is  led  to  see  his  need  of  Christ.  I  now  saw  this  need  ; 
and  I  besought  the  Almighty  to  grant  to  me  the  forgiveness 
of  sins,  when,  as  I  thus  prayed,  it  flashed  through  my  mind 
like  lightning,  that  I  mentally  reserved  some  objects,  the 
enjoyment  of  which  I  considered  as  indispensable  to  my 
happiness.  Here  then  I  had  reached  that  important  point 
in  the  life  of  man  upon  which  his  eternal  destiny  depends. 
I  was  plainly,  intelligibly,  imperatively  called  upon  to  ex 
ercise  that  moral  agency  of  choice  between  the  Supreme 
Good  and  Giver  of  all  happiness,  on  the  one  side,  and  the 
world  with  all  it  could  give,  on  the  other.  '  My  son,  give 
me  thy  heart/  was  the  Divine  command,  and  I  knew  and 
felt  with  complete  conviction,  that  a  part  only  would  not 
be  accepted.  The  struggle  was  most  fearful,  never  to  be 
forgotten,  probably  not  even  through  the  ages  of  eternity  : 
angels  and  devils  may  have  witnessed  it.  At  length,  I 
yielded.  I  gave  up  all  for  Christ,  so  that  I  might  know 
him  as  the  Saviour  and  the  power  of  his  resurrection. 

"  In  this  state  I  was,  a  few  nights  afterwards,  in  a  place 
where  the  Gospel  was  proclaimed.  An  old  man  of  stam 
mering  speech,  without  education,  and  who  was  constantly 


SCENES  AT  WASHINGTON.  21 

shocking  my  college  ears  with  his  bad  grammer,  was  speak 
ing  of  Faith  in  Christ.  'It  is  the  substance  of  things 
hoped  for,'  he  exclaimed, — '  it  is  the  evidence  of  things  not 
seen.  It  is  that  which  unites  the  soul  of  man  to  its  Great 
Creator  and  Saviour.  Whosoever  believeth  in  Him  is 
passed  from  death  unto  life,  from  condemnation  into  favor ; 
for,  being  justified  by  faith,  we  have  peace  with  God 
through  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ/  As  he  spoke,  I  believed  ; 
my  fears  were  all  gone,  and  a  calm  came  over  my  spirit, 
while  the  passions  that  heretofore  had  dominion  over  me, 
were  now  prostrate  under  my  feet,  and  I  knew  where  my 
help  was. 

"  But  this  was  little  to  what  I  was  soon  to  know.  I 
had  met,  to  worship,  with  some  old,  simple-minded  Chris 
tians,  when  our  Lord  came  in  amongst  us,  in  the  spirit,  and 
in  the  glory  of  his  power,  manifesting  himself  to  his  disci 
ples,  as  he  told  them  he  would,  and  in  a  manner  as  sensible 
to  the  soul  as  any  object  in  nature  can  be  to  the  natural 
senses.  I  was  filled  with  a  peace  passing  all  human  com 
prehension  : — dissolved  in  tears,  or  giving  vent  to  my  joy 
in  exclamations  of  wonder,  love,  and  gratitude.  *  This, 
then,'  I  exclaimed,  '  is  Christianity ;  and  oh,  how  adapted 
to  human  necessity  and  misery  !  This  then  is  the  Saviour 
who  died  for  us,  and  rose  again,  and  now  liveth  to  make 
intercession  for  us !  I  know  He  liveth,  and  is  able  to  save 
unto  the  uttermost,  all  the  ends  of  the  earth  that  come  unto 
him.' 

"  This,  I  am  well  aware,  madam,"  Charles  Leslie  con 
tinued,  "  is  called  fanaticism  by  the  wisdom  of  this  world,  but 
the  Scriptures  declare  that  '  the  wisdom  of  this  world  is 


SCENES  AT  WASHINGTON. 


foolishness  with  God/  And  what  can  be  considered  more 
consistent  with  reason,  than  this  manifestation  of  our  Lord, 
according  to  his  own  sacred  promise.  We  believe  that  he 
died  for  our  sins,  rose  from  the  grave,  and  ascended  to 
heaven,  where  he  is  now  seated  at  the  right  hand  of  the 
Majesty  on  high.  We  believe  in  his  divinity,  and  it  would 
be  foolish,  as  it  would  be  wicked,  to  deny  his  power,  and 
willingness  to  give  to  his  repentant  creatures,  the  evidence 
of  his  goodness.  I  have  heard  much  and  read  much  of 
what  are  called  the  evidences  of  Christianity,  and  though  I 
would  not  disparage  any  effort  of  man  to  defend  even  any 
of  its  outworks,  still,  I  can  but  pity  those  who  rest  their 
hopes  of  heaven  upon  such  faith  as  comes  from  external 
evidence  only.  For,  what  is  all  this  book  knowledge  to 
ninety-nine  men  out  of  one  hundred  ?  How  few  there  are 
who  can  obtain  the  volumes  where  all  this  knowledge  is 
deposited.  How  few  can  read  the  languages  in  which  they 
are  written.  But  the  language  of  our  Lord  is  heard  and 
felt  by  every  human  heart ;  and  the  conviction  of  sin,  be 
cause  they  believe  not  in  him,  is  so  impressed  and  re-im 
pressed,  that  no  sophistry  can  escape  from  it,  and  nothing 
but  long-continued  perseverance  in  evil,  can  efface  it. 

"  Again,  in  prayer  we  make  our  requests  to  God  as  our 
Father ;  but  if  we  have  no  answer,  what  the  better  are 
we?  Are  we  not  in  the  same  position  as  the  apostate 
Jews  when  they  worshipped  the  false  deities  of  the  Pagan 
nations  around  them  ?  Christianity  has,  indeed,  done  little 
for  the  world.  The  Saviour,  indeed,  has  died  in  vain,  if 
there  is  still  no  communion  opened  between  our  great  and 

I 


SCENES  AT  WASHINGTON.  23 

good  Creator  and  his  returning  prodigal,  and  no  witness 
from  Himself  that  the  reconciliation  is  complete. 

"  I  have  thus,  my  dear  madam,  explained  to  you,  as  suc- 
cintly  as  I  have  been  able,  the  exercises  of  mind  which  led 
to  this  great  change  in  my  views  and  course  of  life  ;  and  I 
have  also  stated  somewhat  to  show,  that  reason  and  com 
mon  sense  both  support  this  view  of  Christianity  as  the  only 
one  that  can  be  correct.  However  sects  may  differ  in 
speculative  notions,  they  must  agree  here  ;  for  no  language 
can  be  more  precise  than  that  of  our  Lord,  where  He  de 
clares,  that  '  We  must  be  born  again ;'  nor  that  of  the 
Apostle,  speaking  by  his  authority,  that  '  Neither  circum 
cision  availeth  anything,  nor  uncircumcision,  but  a  new 
creature,' — nor  more  precise  as  to  the  evidence  of  our  ac 
ceptance — *  The  Spirit  itself  beareth  witness  with  our 
spirit/ 

"  The  principles  thus  brought  into  operation  upon  human 
conduct,  are  love  to  God,  and  love  to  man.  Upon  those 
two  hang  all  the  law  and  the  prophets,  and  most  surely 
none  other  can  possibly  have  such  influence  upon  the  mind, 
to  secure  what  of  happiness  belongs  to  this  fleeting  exist 
ence,  or  to  insure  it  in  that  more  glorious  existence  which 
is  before  us. 

"  The  foundation  is  *  Jesus  Christ  and  Him  crucified  ; 
the  power  of  God,  and  the  wisdom  of  God.'  Through 
Him  we  have  received  the  atonement ;  nor  is  there  any 
other  name  given  under  Heaven  whereby  we  must  be 
saved,  or  by  which  we  can  know  the  forgiveness  of  sins 
upon  earth." 

Charles  Leslie  here  stopped.     The  ladies  were  evidently 


SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON. 


affected,  and  there  was  a  long  silence.  At  length  Mrs. 
Sydenham  spoke. 

" 1  understand  you,  I  think,  my  young  friend,  and  I  am 
not  able  to  withhold  my  assent  to  your  views  of  Christian 
ity,  much  less  would  I  dispute  the  truth  of  what  you  have 
declared  as  your  own  experience.  Mine  does  not  go  so 
far.  Though  I  have  known  trials  in  life,  and  some  severe, 
still  they  have  not  wrought  that  deep  consideration  which 
you  say  is  the  first  step  towards  this  great  change.  Per 
haps,  indeed,  others  may  be  in  reserve  for  me,  and  I  may 
yet  know  all  you  have  spoken  of." 

"  Heaven  so  grant  it,  madam,"  replied  Charles.  "  Come 
that  consideration  when  it  may,  and  come  it  will, — and 
come  it  must,  remember,  I  beseech  you,  what  I  now  tell 
you, — you  may  know  the  forgiveness  of  sins  upon  earth." 

These  words  sank  deep  into  one  heart.  Amidst  scenes 
of  future  trial  and  distress  they  were  remembered,  and  be 
lieved  to  be  truth  spoken  by  one  in  whom  the  listener  con 
fided.  Often  did  they  recur  to  her  memory,  and  serve  for 
a  support  when  the  hour  of  temptation  and  trial  had  come 
upon  her  also.  How  often  it  is,  that  **  bread  cast  upon  the 
waters  is  found  after  many  days." 

After  a  few  moments  more  of  silence,  Mrs.  Sydenham 
said,  "  You  know,  I  suppose,  Charles,  that  Mr.  Sydenham 
is  elected  to  a  seat  in  Congress  at  the  approaching  session 
in  December.  I  have  given  my  consent  that  the  girls  shall 
pass  the  winter  at  Washington.  Pray  see  them  now  and 
then,  and  take  care,"  she  added,  with  a  smile,  *'  that  they 
do  not  run  into  extravagancies  of  any  kind." 

Charles  Leslie's  face  flushed  up  to  his  forehead,  but  he 


SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON.  25 

soon  recovered  himself.  "  I  am  honored,  madam,"  he  re 
plied,  "  by  the  commission  you  have  given  to  me,  though  I 
must  confess  I  have  little  hope  that  I  shall  be  of  any  use  in 
the  way  you  speak  of.  Washington,  during  the  session  of 
Congress,  is  gay  and  dissipated  to  an  excess.  All  the 
fashion,  beauty,  and  much  of  the  wealth  and  intellect  of 
our  country  are  concentrated  there.  Amusement  of  every 
kind  is  the  law,  and,  it  is  said,  worse  than  amusement  with 
many.  The  young  ladies  will  be  attended  by  crowds  of 
admirers,  flatterers,  suitors  ;  and,  I  fear,  that  in  one  month 
I  may  call,  and  be  dismissed  by  the  servant,  with  a  mes 
sage  that  they  cannot  be  seen." 

"  Mr.  Leslie  !  Mr.  Leslie  !"  said  Clara,  with  a  reproachful 
look. 

**  Don't  go,"  said  the  fine  old  lady.  "  Put  down  your 
hat,  and  dine  with  us  :  it  is  near  our  hour." 

"  Not  to-day,  madam  ;  pray  excuse  me  :  I  have  an  en 
gagement." 

The  evening  of  the  day  on  which  this  long  conversation 
took  place,  was,  with  Clara,  one  of  more  reflection  than 
was  usual  with  her.  She  was  now  satisfied  that  Charles 
Leslie  felt  for  her  a  deeper  attachment  than  she  had  thought 
of,  and  was  not  displeased  to  find  it  so.  The  high  respect 
in  which  she  held  his  character,  had  given  him  some  in 
terest  with  her  for  some  time  past,  and  the  conversation  at 
the  door,  which  was  interrupted  by  her  father,  in  showing 
his  feelings  for  her  more  fully,  had  increased  hers  for  him. 
But  an  insurmountable  obstacle  to  their  union  was  pre 
sented  by  his  religious  opinions.  "  He  is  no  hypocrite,  I 
am  sure."  she  said,  "  nor  do  I  see  how  his  views  of  chris- 

2 


SCENES   AT   WASHINGTON. 


tianity  can  be  disputed  ;  and  his  words,  giving  an  account 
of  his  experience  and  happiness,  go  through  me  like  swords. 
I  never,  never  shall  forget  the  last  words  he  spoke  to  my 
mother.  I  cannot  help  respecting  him,  and  even  like  him 
better  than  I  did,  though  he  finds  fault  with  me.  But  go  to 
Washington  I  must.  I  am  young,  and  have  time  enough 
to  grow  serious.  Perhaps,  too,  I  may  see  some  one  there 
I  shall  like  better.  Go  to  Washington  I  will."  Thus 
thought  and  thus  determined  the  woman  of  the  world,  in 
opposition  to  her  judgment,  and  even,  in  some  measure,  to 
her  feelings. 

Charles  Leslie,  on  his  part,  was  more  agitated  than 
Glara.  His  fears,  as  to  what  might  be  the  result  of  the 
visit  to  Washington,  were  many,  and  he  dreaded  the  effect 
that  might  be  made.  That  Clara  would  be  admired,  he 
considered  as  a  matter  of  course  ;  very  probably,  too,  she 
might  be  addressed  by  some  high  dignitary  of  the  govern 
ment,  or  some  member  of  Congress.  Or  if  this  should  not 
happen,  he  feared  that  her  principles  and  manners  might 
suffer  under  the  incessant  dissipation  in  which  she  would 
be  involved.  She  was  young,  full  of  spirits,  unsuspicious 
of  evil  in  others  ;  might  give  her  confidence  rashly,  and 
thus  be  easily  led  into  associations  which  she  might  have 
too  much  cause  to  regret  afterwards. 

His  thoughts  then  took  another  direction.  "I  have 
read,"  said  he,  "  in  that  book  which  is  given  by  infinite  wis 
dom,  that  the  Christian's  life  is  one  of  unceasing  warfare  ; 
and,  truly,  mine  has  commenced  very  early.  The  Philis 
tines  are  upon  me  already.  But  I  can  cast  this  and  every 
other  interest  I  have  in  life,  upon  Him  who  hath  said,  '  He 


SCENES  AT  WASHINGTON.  27 

careth  for  me.'  If  it  be  best,  He  can  in  his  own  time  ana 
way  prepare  this  dear  object  of  my  affection,  to  unite  her 
fate  with  mine.  But  never  will  I  travel  through  life  with  a 
mere  woman  of  the  world  ;  and  if,  in  the  waywardness  of 
my  nature,  I  should  ever  purpose  otherwise,  Heaven  now 
hear  and  grant  that  its  gracious  providences  may  interpose 
and  prevent  me."  So  saying,  he  threw  himself  on  his 
knees ;  and  soon  the  young  Christian  rose  strong  to  do 
battle  with  the  adversary. 

Two  days  afterwards  he  set  off  for  Washington. 


SCENES   AT   WASHINGTON. 


CHAPTER    III. 

THE  struggle  in  which  all  the  colonies  had  been  en 
gaged  together  against  the  power  of  Great  Britain,  had 
served  to  bind  closer  the  bands  of  brotherhood,  in  which 
oppression  had  first  united  them  ;  and  when  our  glorious 
Independence  was  gained,  and  peace  came,  it  found  our 
fathers  prepared  to  form  our  present  confederacy  upon  the 
great  principle  of  mutual  concession  for  the  good  of  the 
whole.  The  form  of  government  under  which  we  now 
live  was,  in  reality,  the  collective  wisdom  and  patriotism  of 
our  noble  country.  The  men  who  sat  in  convention 
have,  perhaps,  never  been  equalled  by  any  deliberative 
assembly  that  ever  met  to  consult  upon  the  great  objects 
of  government.  Divine  Providence,  too,  it  may  be  con 
fidently  said,  and  for  its  own  gracious  purposes,  aided  the 
efforts  of  the  convention  in  the  formation  of  our  beautiful 
system,  and,  to  crown  its  blessings,  gave  us  the  Father  of 
his  Country  to  set  the  machine  in  motion.  His  adminis 
tration  of  eight  years,  the  most  arduous  and  trying  period 
of  a  new  government,  served  to  give  a  well-grounded 
hope  that  the  constitution  would  as  fully  meet  the  expecta 
tions  of  its  friends  as  it  would  prove  to  be  unfounded,  the 
fears  of  its  enemies.  But  in  its  progress  it  developed,  like 
wise,  the  existence  of  two  parties,  of  views  adverse  and 


SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON.  29 

unharmonizing,  and  which,  scarcely  to  this  day,  have  dis 
appeared  from  our  political  conflicts.  The  acknowledged 
purity  of  character,  firmness,  and  sound  judgment  of  the 
President,  served  well,  however,  to  control,  during  his  ad 
ministration,  every  movement  that  might  have  endangered 
our  existence  as  a  confederated  republic ;  and  the  New 
world  already  bid  fair  to  show  to  the  Old,  that  man  needed 
not  kings,  priests,  and  nobles  to  rule  him,  but  was  sufficient 
with  the  powers,  with  which  he  was  endowed  by  his 
Maker,  to  legislate  for  his  own  government,  by  choosing 
his  own  law-makers. 

But  the  succeeding  administration  of  Mr.  Adams  was 
met  by  a  more  spirited  resistance  than  could  be  raised 
against  that  of  the  great  father  of  his  country.  Though 
of  an  elevated  standing,  as  an  advocate  of  every  measure 
adopted  by  the  old  Congress  to  obtain  and  secure  our  inde 
pendence,  his  unbounded  admiration  of  the  British  form  of 
government,  and  of  its  administration,  subjected  him  to  the 
charge  of  a  greater  leaning  towards  a  monarchy  than  was 
fitting  in  the  chief  magistrate  of  a  republic.  The  party 
opposed  to  him  was  a  party  upon  principle  ;  and,  after  a 
violent  contest,  succeeded  in  defeating  his  re-election  to 
the  presidency.  When  he  left  the  chair  in  March,  1801, 
Washington  had  become  the  seat  of  the  General  Govern 
ment. 

At  the  session  of  Congress  which  followed  the  Installation 
of  Mr.  Jefferson  into  the  office  of  President — the  winter  of 
1801-2 — Washington  presented  a  brilliant  assemblage  of 
talent.  Mr.  Madison,  at  the  head  of  the  Department  of 
State,  sustained  its  duties  with  an  energy  and  capacity 


30  SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON. 

which  have  never  since  been  surpassed ;  while  his  deport 
ment  in  social  life  threw  around  his  character  additional 
brilliancy  to  its  lustre  as  a  statesman.  Mr.  Gallatin  ad 
ministered  the  financial  affairs  of  the  country  with  a  degree 
of  integrity  and  science,  with  which  even  the  vigilance  of 
the  opposition  was  compelled  to  be  satisfied.  Mr.  Smith,  at 
the  head  of  the  Naval  Department,  with  the  manners  of  the 
most  perfect  gentleman,  exerted  all  his  efforts  to  bring  into 
that  branch  of  the  public  service,  or  to  retain  in  it,  (not  al 
ways  an  easy  matter,)  men  of  education,  and  skill  in  their 
profession  ;  to  whom  the  United  States  were  subsequently 
indebted  for  the  victories  at  sea  which  have  added  so  much 
to  their  glory.  Little  is  now  known  of  the  difficulties  under 
which,  in  the  then  state  of  the  navy,  he  constantly  labored  ; 
nor  have  his  efforts  been  appreciated  as  they  ought.  Gen 
eral  Dearborne  conducted  the  War  Department,  with  in 
different  ability,  but  sufficient  under  the  existing  circum 
stances  of  an  army  of  four  thousand  men. 

Mr.  Jefferson's  measures  were  supported  in  Congress  by 
men  of  distinguished  abilities,  and  opposed  by  others  in  no 
way  their  inferiors.  Our  government,  at  that  time,  had 
been  fourteen  years  only  in  operation,  and  the  question, 
even  of  its  continuance,  was  still  problematical  with  some, 
who,  at  the  formation  of  the  Constitution,  considered  it  as 
defective  in  not  having  an  executive  for  a  long  term,  and  as 
they  therefore  thought,  a  stronger  government.  They  had 
no  conception  of  a  moral  power.  Everything  with  then 
was  to  move  forward  under  the  influence  of  the  sword  and 
musket.  But  the  struggle  between  the  two  great  parties  into 
which  the  people  of  the  United  States  were  then  divided, 


SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON.  31 

and  which,  in  fact,  was  a  contest  of  principles,  (not  for  places 
of  profit,  as  at  present,)  had  resulted  in  the  defeat  of  the 
partisans  of  a  strong  government,  who  indignantly  and 
angrily  saw  the  doctrine  of  the  Sovereignty  of  the  People 
brought  into  operation  by  a  President  as  well  disposed,  as 
able,  to  give  it  practical  effect.  Instead  of  considering  it 
necessary  to  have  a  body  of  legislators  to  save  the  people 
from  themselves,  as  their  worst  enemies, — as  was  boldly  said 
by  a  senator  from  New  York, — Mr.  Jefferson  considered  it 
more  necessary,  as  history  proved,  the  people  should  take 
care  that  their  servants  did  not  become  their  masters.  This 
cool-headed  and  deep  statesman,  detesting  monarchy,  the 
effects  of  which  he  had  witnessed  in  Europe ;  devoted  to 
republican  institutions,  through  which  only  he  knew  that 
liberty  could  flourish,  exerted  all  his  powers  to  lay  strong 
and  deep  foundations  for  posterity.  He  did  so  ;  and  now, 
that  forty  years  have  passed  away,  his  views  of  the  consti 
tution  are  considered  as  land-marks  for  our  legislation  ;  and 
no  man,  at  this  day,  can  aspire  to  a  seat  in  Congress,  whose 
opinion,  as  to  the  sovereignty  of  the  people,  is  even  ques 
tionable.  Richelieu  has  been  accounted  a  great  minister, 
because  he  long  preserved  his  ascendency  over  a  weak  and 
bigoted  king  ;  but  Jefferson  preserved  his  over  men  of  vast 
intellect,  from  their  confidence  in  his  talents,  integrity,  and 
devotion  to  his  country. 

At  this  period  of  our  history,  not  only  were  the  princi 
ples  recognized  in  the  constitution  to  be  developed  in  prac 
tice,  but  its  power  to  secure  the  great  objects  for  which  it 
was  framed,  was  to  be  evinced.  Our  prosperity,  it  is  true, 
had  advanced  rapidly,  but  causes  of  complaint  against  the 


32  SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON. 

two  greatest  nations  of  Europe,  were  daily  accumulating, 
threatening  to  test,  at  no  distant  day,  how  far  our  govern 
ment  would  be  efficient  for  war.  But  the  philosophy  of  the 
President  led  him  to  endeavor  to  obtain  justice  from  the 
belligerents,  by  appeals  to  their  interests,  rather  than  by 
arms.  Embargoes  and  non-intercourse  laws  were  resorted 
to,  and  Congress,  under  his  guidance,  submitted  to  inflict 
vast  injury  upon  ourselves,  in  the  hope  that  we  should 
thereby  inflict  greater  upon  them.  But  as  these  measures 
did  not  eventually  save  us  from  war,  Mr.  Jefferson's  policy 
in  our  foreign  relations,  it  has  been  long  seen,  is  marked 
with  a  weakness  as  disgraceful  to  us,  as  that  of  Walpole, 
in  his  dispute  with  the  Spaniards,  was  to  Great  Britain. 
We  gained  nothing  by  our  restrictive  measures,  but  invited 
by  our  cowardice  additional  insults  and  injuries.  But  the 
President  persisted  in  his  course  to  the  end  of  his  adminis 
tration  ;  and  finally,  left  it  to  his  successor  to  make  war,  as 
a  measure  demanded  as  much  by  our  interest  as  by  our 
honor.  Great  Britain,  by  her  humiliating  defeats  on  the 
ocean,  then  paid  dearly  for  the  past,  and  it  may  be,  that  she 
will  yet  pay  more  so.  In  half  a  century  "  The  ball  of  em 
pire  will  have  rolled  to  the  West." 

But  at  the  period  now  referred  to,  it  probably  did  not 
enter  into  the  head  of  a  single  statesman  amongst  us,  what 
immense  developments  of  our  resources  one  generation 
only  would  produce.  Neither  steamboats  nor  railroads  had 
been  thought  of:  there  was  not  even  a  turnpike  from  Phil 
adelphia  to  Trenton.  Manufactures,  we  had  none.  The 
military  spirit  had  expired  with  the  war  of  Independence 
which  had  aroused  it ;  and  the  old  officers  of  that  period 


SCENES  AT  WASHINGTON.  33 

who  were  yet  on  the  roll  of  the  army,  were  resting  content 
with  the  laurels  they  had  gathered  in  the  glorious  strife  of 
their  youth,  rather  than  ambitious  of  seeking  new  ones  in 
new  fields.  Our  young  navy,  it  is  true,  was  even  then 
giving  fair  promise  in  the  Mediterranean  of  what  it  has  since 
achieved  upon  the  ocean,  but  futurity  for  our  country  was 
still  covered  over  with  doubts  and  fears.  Who  that  re 
members  that  time,  and  the  events  that  were  occurring 
daily,  and  affecting  every  portion  of  the  globe,  but  must 
recur  to  it  with  gratitude,  when  he  now  sees  our  present 
high  standing  amongst  the  nations  of  the  earth,  the  stability 
of  our  institutions,  and  our  increasing  prosperity. 

The  United  States  were  a  vast  field,  for  which  our  dis 
tinguished  men  rushed  to  contest.  The  administration  of 
the  government  of  the  new  Republic  of  the  West,  was  a 
brilliant  object  of  pursuit ;  and  though  defeated  in  keeping 
possession  of  it,  the  Federal  party  did  not  despair  of  recov 
ering  it.  Their  opposition  was  inveterate,  and  sustained 
by  vast  powers.  Gouverneur  Morris,  of  New  York,  was 
a  host  of  himself.  This  celebrated  man,  who  had  served 
in  the  Congress  of  the  old  federation,  had  been  ambassador 
to  France,  in  the  first  period  of  her  revolutionary  career, 
and  had  returned  home,  imbued,  it  was  thought,  with  mo 
narchical  principles.  Certain  it  is,  he  as  heartily  affected 
the  cause  of  the  Bourbons,  as  he  detested  the  revolution 
ary  party  which,  at  this  time,  conducted  the  French  gov 
ernment,  under  the  Consulate  of  Bonaparte.  His  per 
sonal-appearance,  though  he  had  lost  a  leg,  was  superb. 
Dressed  in  high  style,  his  hair  powdered,  according  to  the 
fashion  of  the  olden-times ;  his  large,  but  well-proportioned 

2* 


34  SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON. 

form ;  his  broad  forehead,  and  eagle  face ;  his  erect  bear 
ing  when  he  rose  to  speak  in  the  Senate,  he  presented  to  the 
observer  an  object  for  reflection  as  well  as  of  admiration. 
Nor  was  he  less  distinguished  in  debate.  With  language 
at  command,  and  embellished  by  trope  and  figure;  with 
illustrations  drawn  from  books  and  intercourse  with  men ; 
with  a  voice  sonorous  and  well-modulated ;  with  action  as 
graceful  as  appropriate ;  he  commanded  deep  attention^ 
Still,  he  made  no  commensurate  impression.  His  flight  was 
too  discursive ;  his  premises  not  laid  down  with  sufficient 
precision,  nor  his  deductions  fully  logical;  leaving  him 
open  to  the  attacks  of  his  keen  and  discriminating  oppo 
nent. 

This  was  Mr.  Breckenridge  of  Kentucky.  As  a  lawyer, 
he  was,  beyond  dispute,  superior  to  Mr.  Morris.  In  dis 
cernment  of  the  main  point  at  issue,  in  laying  it  in  the  clear 
est  light  before  his  hearers,  in  pressing  it  with  all  its  force 
upon  the  judgment,  disregarding  what  might  be  considered 
as  merely  collateral ;  in  all  this  he  could  hardly  be  excelled 
at  the  bar,  or  in  the  Senate.  He  spoke  easily  and  well,  but 
there  was  little  of  ornament  in  his  style ;  and  his  form, 
though  tall  and  well-proportioned,  bore  no  comparison  with 
the  magnificent  appearance  of  his  rival.  It  was  the  back 
woodsman,  and  the  courtier  of  Versailles. 

These  two  great  men  led  the  vanguards  of  the  contend 
ing  parties  in  the  Senate.  There  were  others,  it  is  true, 
well  known  in  our  history,  who  brought  to  their  assistance 
a  vast  fund  of  legal  and  political  knowledge,  but  these  two 
stood  pre-eminent.  The  crowded  lobbies  and  galleries 
bore  constant  evidence  of  the  interest  taken  by  the  public, 


SCENES   AT   WASHINGTON,  35 

whenever  it  was  known  that  either  of  them  was  to 
speak. 

In  the  other  House,  Mr.  Bayard  was  considered  as  the 
leader  of  the  opposition.  He  had  shown  incontestable  evi 
dence  of  his  patriotism  in  giving  up  his  party  spirit,  or,  it 
may  be,  the  preference  of  his  judgment,  in  submitting  to  the 
election  of  Mr.  Jefferson  by  the  House  of  Representatives. 
At  a  later  period  he  evinced  it  again,  by  supporting  his 
country  in  her  war  with  Great  Britain.  His  mind  was  of 
the  highest  order,  and  his  eloquence  engrossing.  The  de 
fect  was,  in  his  carrying  into  parliament  the  practice  of 
the  lawyer,  and  losing  sight  too  often  of  the  main  point  at 
issue,  in  the  various  shades  of  difference  he  presented.  Few 
more  real  patriots  have  appeared  amongst  us  since  the 
peace  of  '83,  and  few  statesmen  with  powers  of  mind  equal 
to  his. 

John  Randolph  was  the  leader  of  the  administration 
party  in  the  House  of  Representatives.  It  is  difficult  to 
describe  this  strange  man,  as  eccentric  in  character  as  pre 
eminent  in  talents.  As  to  "  building  up  an  argument  brick 
by  brick,"  or  "  stringing  together  boquets  of  rhetoric,"  as 
he  one  day  expressed  himself,  he  disdained  it ;  and  yet  his 
arguments  were  illustrated  from  trades,  professions,  occu 
pations,  books  ;  from  almost  everything  on  earth,  and  all 
as  appropriate  as  beautiful.  It  was  his  delight  to  crush  his 
opponent  by  a  single  blow,  by  showing  the  falsehood  of  his 
facts,  or  premises,  or  conclusions,  rather  than  defeat  him 
by  a  more  continued  chain  of  reasoning.  It  is  impossible 
to  conceive,  now  that  a  meretricious  kind  of  oratory  has 
usurped  the  place  once  occupied  by  powerful  and  natural 


36  SCENES    AT  WASHINGTON. 

eloquence  ; — now,  that  county-court  lawyers  vacate,  as  soon 
as  they  rise,  the  seats  which  were  once  held  for  hours  suc 
cessively,  in  listening  to  the  Cicero  of  the  Union, — it  is  im 
possible  to  describe  the  intense  interest  with  which  men 
listened  to  John  Randolph.  His  sharp  enunciation,  every 
word  distinct,  clear,  and  appropriate ;  his  face,  depicting 
every  passion  that  sprung  up  in  his  mind  ;  his  gestures,  even 
the  pointing  of  his  long,  lean  ringer,  all  combined  to  add  to 
the  effect  which  his  language  never  failed  to  make.  The 
Congress  of  the  United  States  has  not  yet  produced  his 
equal  as  a  speaker  to  a  popular  assembly. 

The  chair  was  filled  by  Mr.  Macon  of  North  Carolina, 
a  gentleman  of  undoubted  purity  of  character,  but  with  lit 
tle  ability  to  preserve  order  in  the  House.  Noise  and  con 
fusion  reigned  throughout  the  hall  continually.  But  as 
soon  as  the  Committee  of  the  Whole  was  raised,  and  Mr. 
John  Cotton  Smith,  from  Connecticut,  took  the  chair,  (to 
which  he  was  usually  called  by  the  Speaker,)  the  noise  and 
confusion  ceased,  the  members  took  their  seats,  and  the 
business  proceeded  with  the  gravity  and  decorum  which 
ought  ever  to  characterize  the  proceedings  of  a  legislative 
body.  No  man  who  had  presided  in  that  chair  up  to  that 
time,  surpassed  Mr.  John  Smith  in  the  discharge  of  its 
duties :  none  since  have  equalled  him. 

In  the  progress  of  Mr.  Jefferson's  administration, 
changes,  of  course,  took  place  in  the  legislative  bodies  ;  but 
in  the  friends  of  the  President,  none  of  any  consideration, 
with  the  exception  of  Mr.  Randolph,  who  commenced  an 
opposition  which  he  continued  through  Mr.  Jefferson's,  and 
even  carried  it  into  the  succeeding  administration  of  Mr. 


SCENES  AT  WASHINGTON.  37 

Madison.  But  no  opposition  could  arrest  the  measures 
which  Mr.  Jefferson  saw  fit  to  pursue.  His  principles  of 
government,  and  measures  consequent  upon  them,  were 
constantly  supported  by  majorities  which  set  opposition  at 
defiance ;  and  it  is  hardly  unfair  to  say,  that  he  transferred 
the  reins  of  government  to  his  successor  in  what  has  been 
called  "  The  Line  of  safe  Precedent,"  until  the  people,  in 
the  majesty  of  their  power,  set  that  line  aside. 

The  city  itself  presented  the  appearance  of  desolation. 
There  were  then  none  of  those  beds  of  flowers,  or  gushing 
fountains,  or  shrubbery,  or  shady  groves,  as  we  now  see, 
where  love  (if  love  could  be  at  Washington)  might  breathe 
its  hopes  and  vows  to  listening  beauty  ;  or  where  the 
patriot  (and  there  were  patriots  then  at  Washington)  might 
wonder,  and  muse,  and  anticipate  the  future  greatness  and 
prosperity  of  his  country.  On  emerging  out  of  the  woods 
upon  the  open  plain,  the  eye  looked  over  an  immense  space, 
the  first  object  in  which  that  drew  attention,  was  the  un 
finished  Capitol.  On  approaching  it,  were  seen  large  blocks 
of  unhewn  stone — sculpture,  some  finished,  some  not ;  the 
grounds  rough,  not  even  levelled — the  shops  of  the  work 
men.  In  the  distance,  to  the  west,  appeared  the  Presi 
dent's  House,  unfinished  likewise — stone  thickly  strown 
around — workshops  scattered  about — the  grounds  not  even 
inclosed — the  public  offices  sunk  so  low,  that  it  was  neces 
sary  to  descend  by  a  flight  of  steps  to  reach  the  first  floor ; 
and  close  at  hand  were  the  kilns  where  the  bricks  were 
burned  to  erect  them : — everything  bore  evidence  of  the 
unfinished  state  in  which  the  new  government  had  taken 
possession  of  the  new  seat  of  their  empire.  Blocks  of 


38  SCENES  AT  WASHINGTON. 

buildings,  at  great  distances  apart,  erected  in  places  which 
the  speculators  supposed  would  be  most  advantageous  for 
their  interests,  proved  what  fantastic  ideas  were  held  of  the 
rapid  increase  of  the  metropolis.  Pennsylvania  Avenue  was 
the  only  thoroughfare,  and  that  was  almost  impassable  in 
the  winter.  The  boarding-houses  were  of  the  poorest  de 
scription,  both  as  to  the  table  and  accommodations  ;  and  the 
votaries  of  pleasure  paid  the  highest  prices  for  everything. 
Some  weeks  elapsed  before  all  were  settled  for  the  season ; 
and  at  the  beginning  of  the  year,  the  parties  for  matrimo 
nial  projects  with  some,  of  gambling  and  intrigue  with 
others,  and  of  amusement  for  all,  commenced.  And  thus 
time,  during  the  session,  was  passed.  But  by  some  inex 
plicable  cause  then,  and  it  is  as  inexplicable  down  to  the 
present  day,  notwithstanding  the  assemblage  of  beauty  and 
fashion  thus  brought  together  from  our  broad  Union,  such 
a  thing  as  an  engagement  for  marriage  was  hardly  ever 
known.  The  gentlemen  were  either  too  much  engrossed 
in  politics,  or  perhaps  disgusted  at  seeing  female  loveliness 
brought  so  profusely  into  market ;  or,  the  ladies  had  dis 
covered  that  men  at  Washington,  were  neither  handsomer, 
nor  better,  nor  more  intelligent  than  those  they  had  left  at 
home ;  or,  they  were  so  amused  that  they  could  not  be 
serious  enough  to  give  themselves  away  ;  or,  their  prudent 
fathers  had  discovered,  that  mere  official  dignity  was  not 
sufficient  without  the  more  substantial  advantage  of  wealth ; 
or,  perhaps  of  intellect ;  or,  perhaps  (in  a  very  few  cases) 
of  sound  morality,  to  secure  the  happiness  of  their  daugh 
ters.  Be  all  this  as  it  may,  the  end  of  the  session,  after  all 
the  manoeuvring  brought  into  operation,  found  all  in  the 


SCENES  AT  WASHINGTON.  39 

same  position  as  at  the  beginning.  Marriages,  by  some 
fatality  or  other,  could  not  be  brought  about;  and  from 
that  time  to  this,  a  fair  calculation  will  not  give  more  than 
one  for  every  four  sessions  that  have  since  passed  away. 
Such  then  was  Washington,  during  the  administration  of 
Mr.  Jefferson. 

Mr.  Sydenham  arrived  at  the  opening  of  the  session  of 
1807-8.  His  daughters  followed  him  two  weeks  later, 
under  the  care  of  Mrs.  Marchmont,  the  lady  of  one  of  the 
representatives  from  New  York,  and  a  relative  of  the 
Sydenhams.  She  had  with  her,  also,  her  beautiful  daugh 
ter  Lucy,  as  sensible  as  beautiful !  How  many  of  those 
lovely  beings  have  passed  away  forever.  How  many 
recollections  still  remain  of  what  they  were  in  auld  lang 
syne.  The  present  generation  may  have  its  beauty,  and 
wit,  and  accomplishments  assembled  annually  at  Washing 
ton,  but  it  will  hardly  equal  what  was  found  there  at  the 
session  of  1807-8. 


40  SCENES  AT  WASHINGTON. 


CHAPTER    IV. 

HOWEVER  strong  were  the  attractions  or  repulsions  which 
existed  between  the  two  great  political  parties  that  met 
annually  in  Congress,  they  operated  but  slightly  in  forming 
the  societies  which  were  found  at  the  different  places  where 
they  were  then  accommodated.  Nor,  indeed,  were  those 
places  sufficiently  numerous  to  admit  of  much  choice  or 
preference.  The  great  object  was,  a  place  wherein  to 
stow  away  all  whom  business  or  pleasure  had  assembled 
there  ;  and  inconveniencies  were  soon  borne  or  forgotten, 
in  the  pleasure  which  such  new  and  enlivening  scenes  were 
sure  to  produce.  Nor,  indeed,  was  the  sight  without  its 
interest.  Men  who  bore  upon  their  persons  the  scars  of 
wounds  received  in  every  State  of  our  wide  Union,  and 
who  had  never  met  since  the  peace  of  1783,  or  known 
each  other  but  as  history  had  told  of  their  patriotism  and 
bravery,  now  met  to  deliberate  upon  the  general  welfare 
of  their  country.  The  south  intermingling  with  the  north, 
and  the  east  with  the  west;  the  families  of  the  members 
interchanging  the  courtesies  of  life,  or  forming  friendships, 
all  served  to  bind  still  closer,  the  parts  of  our  beautiful 
system.  In  the  halls  of  Congress,  the  two  parties  watched 
each  other  keenly ;  but  at  the  boarding-house,  the  urbanity 
of  the  gentleman  took  place  of  the  spleen  of  the  politician, 


SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON,  41 

and  all  seemed  anxious  to  make  their  temporary  intercourse 
pleasant  to  each  other. 

The  company  at  Vanderhorn's,  on  Capitol  Hill,  where 
Mr.  Sydenham  had  taken  lodgings,  was  mixed  up  of  the 
Federal  and  Democratic  parties,  in  nearly  equal  numbers. 
Mr.  Sydenham,  Mr.  Marchmont,  with  Mr.  Longfield  from 
Virginia,  comprised  that  part  of  the  company,  the  most 
distinguished  for  the  high-standing  of  the  gentlemen  in  polit 
ical  life  ;  and  two  single  gentlemen  of  the  House  of  Repre 
sentatives,  Mr.  O'Connor  from  New  York,  of  Irish  descent, 
and  Mr.  Hollis,  from  Virginia,  completed  the  mass  as  to  the 
gentlemen.  Mrs.  Marchmont  and  her  daughter,  with  the 
two  Misses  Sydenham,  comprised  all  the  ladies  making 
part  of  the  establishment  of  the  members  of  Congress  ;  but 
there  was  another  lady  also  at  Vanderhorn's,  Mrs.  Stanley, 
from  the  south,  the  widow  of  an  officer  of  the  revolutionary 
army,  whom  business  had  a  second  time  brought  to  Wash 
ington.  This  lady,  whom  Charles  Leslie  had  known  the 
winter  before,  drew  universal  attention  by  her  powers  of 
conversation ;  though  her  conduct  was  not  always  gov 
erned  by  those  strict  rules  which  society  has  established  as 
indispensable  to  female  propriety.  Followed  as  she  was 
by  men  of  the  highest  station  and  intellect,  she  dictated  to 
her  own  sex,  the  fashion  for  everything ;  all  submitted  in 
some  degree  or  other  to  a  superiority  they  could  not  con 
test,  and  endeavored  then  to  imitate  manners  which  they 
saw  draw  about  her  so  many  admirers.  Devoted  to  in 
trigue  from  the  excitement  it  produced,  still  she  contrived 
to  make  it  doubtful,  whether  she  was  in  search  of  a  second 
husband,  for  which  her  personal  appearance  offered  some 


42  SCENES   AT   WASHINGTON. 

inducement,  or,  was  only  securing  friends  to  support  her 
claims  upon  the  government.  But  while  thus  engaged,  she 
had  full  time  to  make  her  influence  felt  upon  the  young  and 
unsuspicious  girls  whom  she  found  at  Washington ;  and  as 
ingenuousness  no  longer  formed  part  of  her  own  character, 
she  seemed  anxious  to  drive  it  from  others,  and  to  bring 
them  down  to  her  own  standard  of  heartlessness,  and  even 
of  indifference  to  public  opinion. 

Charles  Leslie  frequently  heard  of  the  young  ladies  in 
the  various  reports  of  new  arrivals,  or  those  still  more 
various  of  the  sayings  and  doings  of  the  wit  and  beauty 
assembled  at  Washington.  He  was  not  mistaken  in  his 
expectations  of  the  admiration  they  would  excite,  and  his 
jealousy  and  his  fears  were  both  increased.  But  he  had 
made  up  his  mind  to  let  things  take  their  course,  well- 
knowing  that  he  could  not  turn  them  in  the  channel  he 
wished ;  and  he  determined  to  show  no  solicitude  that 
would  make  him  appear  other  than  as  an  acquaintance  of 
some  years  standing.  He  was  in  no  hurry  therefore  to 
make  even  his  first  visit,  and  waited  two  weeks  as  calmly 
as  he  could,  before  he  presented  himself.  During  this 
time  the  young  ladies  had  got  engaged  in  the  usual  routine 
of  fashionable  life.  Visits  to  the  two  halls  of  Congress, 
ostensibly  to  hear  the  debates, — in  reality,  to  see  and  be 
seen,  was  then,  as  now,  the  usual  mode  of  passing  away  an 
hour  or  two  in  the  morning  ;  then  calls  upon  their  acquaint 
ances,  attended  by  an  admirer:  in  the  evening,  balls  and 
parties  occupied  their  time  still  more  agreeably.  It  was 
one  night  after  their  return  home  from  one  of  these  balls, 


SCENES  AT  WASHINGTON.  43 

that  the  Misses  Sydenham  and  Miss  Marchmont  found 
themselves  sitting  in  their  room,  before  a  large  fire. 

"  What  in  this  world,  Agnes,"  said  Clara,  "  is  become  of 
my  little  admirer,  Charles  Leslie,  that  he  keeps  himself  at 
such  a  distance  ?  I  will  bet  a  pair  of  gloves  that  he  has 
heard  how  we  are  going  on,  and  has  given  us  up  as  irre 
claimable.  Or,  do  you  think  that  he  has  drowned  himself 
in  the  Potomac  ?  Any  how,  I  should  like  to  see  his  long, 
sober  face  once  more  ;  and  if  it  does  not  come  before  me 
very  soon,  I  shall  take  care  not  to  know  it  when  it  does. 
Mr.  Charles  Leslie  ought  not  to  forget,  that  if  he  has  made 
me  afraid  to  cause  the  cutting  off  the  skirts  of  another  coat, 
I  may  be  bold  enough  still  to  cut  a  gentleman's  feelings." 

"  I  must  first  ask  you,  sister,"  said  Agnes,  "  an  explana 
tion  of  your  phrase,  '  little  admirer/  Charles  Leslie  is  six 
feet  high,  and  as  straight  as  an  arrow.  Why  do  you  call 
*  your  little  admirer  ?' " 

"  Why,  Agnes,  you  know  what  a  selecter  of  words  he 
is,  and  I  have  been  learning  from  him.  By  *  little  admirer,' 
I  mean,  he  admires  me  a  little.  Now  answer  my  questions 
if  you  can.  It  will  be  a  serious  matter  if  I  lose  him  after 
all." 

"  I  have  no  doubt  it  will,"  said  Agnes,  "  but  to  your 
questions:  I  do  not  know  what  he  has  heard  of  us,  or 
whether  he  considers  us  as  irreclaimable  or  not.  As  to  his 
having  drowned  himself  in  the  Potomac  for  you,  or  any 
one,  or  anything,  wipe  your  eyes :  there  is  no  danger  of 
that.  As  to  your  cutting  his  feelings,  I  do  not  doubt  your 
ability  to  do  that,  though  I  suspect,  if  you  attempt  it,  he 
will  not  spare  your  own  in  return." 


44  SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON. 

"  Who  is  this  Mr.  Leslie,  girls,"  said  Lucy  Marchmont. 
"  He  seems  to  be  an  object  of  some  interest  to  both  of 
you." 

"  I  believe,  Lucy,"  said  Agnes,  "  that  sister  can  give  you 
the  best  account  of  him." 

"  I  think  so,  too,  Lucy,"  replied  Clara.  "  Now  listen  : 
Firstly,  he  is  an  acquaintance  of  five  or  six  years  standing, 
— that  is,  since  he  left  college.  Secondly,  he  is  tall,  straight 
as  an  arrow,  and  slender  as  a  lath.  He  is  not  so  handsome 
that  any  lady  would  die  for  love  of  him,  nor  so  ugly  that 
any  lady  need  refuse  him  on  that  account  only.  Then 
thirdly,  he  is  sober,  religious,  and  of  course,  steady.  He 
is  very  agreeable  when  it  pleaseth  him  so  to  be,  and  most 
monstrously  disagreeable  when  it  pleaseth  him  to  take  that 
turn.  Fourthly,  he  is  an  admirer  of  mine  ;  but  I  give  you 
to  know,  he  says  that  this  word  comes  from  a  Latin  word 
signifying  '  to  wonder  at,'  and  as  a  gentleman  may  wonder 
at  a  lady's  giddiness  or  extravagancies  of  various  kinds,  as 
well  as  at  her  beauty,  or  mind,  or  manners,  or  principles, 
he  has  contrived,  by  a  single  word,  to  leave  me  in  doubt 
for  what  it  is  I  am  indebted  for  his  admiration.  Lastly, 
when  he  makes  love  to  me,  he  does  it  by  quarrelling  with 
me." 

"  I  have  a  great  curiosity,"  said  Lucy,  '*  to  see  the 
original  of  this  strange  picture  you  have  drawn.  There 
are  some  features  in  it,  too,  which  I  like  so  well,  that  I  have 
a  notion  of  trying  for  Mr.  Leslie  myself." 

"  I  forbid  the  bans,  Lucy,"  replied  Clara.  "  The  bare 
mention  of  it  has  given  me  an  ague." 

"  Well,  I  will  not  come  between  you  in  this  affair — of 


SCENES   AT   WASHINGTON.  45 

what  to  call  it,  I  am  sure  I  know  not.  I  will  only  tell  him 
of  your  winning  money  at  cards  the  other  night." 

"  I  shall  positively  deny  it,  Lucy,"  said  Clara,  "  and  take 
my  chance  for  his  believing  you  or  me." 

Thus  those  lively,  ingenuous  young  beings  amused  them 
selves  for  an  hour.  Could  they,  indeed,  have  looked  into 
the  futurity  of  a  few  years  only,  what  would  they  have 
seen  ?  With  two,  hopes  blooming  and  withering  in  an  hour, 
and  death  claiming  all  this  loveliness  as  his  prey,  and  the 
grave  closing  upon  it  :  the  third,  essaying  a  long,  and 
weary,  and  sad  pilgrimage  of  years.  And  such  is  this 
world,  where  disappointment  is  lurking  on  the  side  of  every 
road  that  love,  or  ambition,  or  avarice,  or  pride  may  travel, 
and  the  cold,  dark  grave  the  end  of  all  !  Dark,  indeed, 
to  those  who  have  never  looked  beyond  it,  but  glorious  to 
those  who  have  known  that  the  Redeemer  is  the  resurrec 
tion  and  the  life. 

Charles  Leslie,  in  the  course  of  the  following  week,  was 
in  the  gallery  of  the  House  of  Representatives,  and  seeing 
that  Clara  and  Lucy  were  in  the  seats  appropriated  for  the 
ladies,  he  determined  to  watch  their  departure,  and  attend 
them  home.  They  soon  went  off.  It  took  Charles  some 
time  before  he  could  extricate  himself  from  the  crowd  in 
which  he  was  wedged,  in  the  small  galleries  of  the  then 
place  of  sitting  of  the  Representatives,  and  he  was  not 
able  to  join  them  before  they  had  reached  Vanderhorn's, 
where  he  found  them  in  the  drawing-room,  with  Agnes  and 
Mrs.  Stanley.  Agnes  ran  up  to  him  with  all  the  artlessness 
of  youth.  Clara  advanced  more  slowly,  and  with  dignity 
and  ease,  and  introduced  him  to  Lucy  and  Mrs.  Stanley. 


SCENES   AT   WASHINGTON. 


"  Mr.  Leslie  is  an  acquaintance  of  mine  of  a  year's  stand 
ing,  Miss  Sydenham,"  said  Mrs.  Stanley,  approaching 
Charles  Leslie,  with  her  hand  extended  to  him.  "  We  have 
had  already  many  keen  encounters  of  the  wits,  and  may 
yet  have  others."  She  then  made  many  inquiries  about 
old  acquaintances  at  the  seven  buildings,  and  asked  him 
what  additions  had  been  made  to  their  old  company  at  the 
present  session. 

"  We  remain,  madam,"  he  replied,  "  as  when  you  last 
left  us,  with  the  exception  of  Captain  Jackson  of  the  army, 
who  came  last  week." 

"  Captain  Jackson  ?"  she  replied,  '«  my  late  husband's 
nephew  !  Look  to  your  hearts,  young  ladies  ;  he  belongs 
to  the  artillery,  and  if  he  lays  siege  to  you,  you  will  hardly 
be  able  to  hold  out  against  his  fine  military  appearance  and 
strategy  of  various  kinds,  in  which  he  is  so  skilful.  Are 
you  not  of  my  opinion,  Mr.  Leslie  ?" 

"  I  am  not  able  to  answer  for  the  ladies,  madam,"  replied 
Charles  ;  "  the  captain's  appearance  is  certainly  very  fine  ; 
but  perhaps  some  other  requisites  might  be  expected  before 
they  capitulated,  and  what  those  should  be  they  themselves 
only  have  the  right  to  judge." 

"  But  do  you  not  think  he  would  be  a  formidable  rival  ?" 
inquired  Mrs.  Stanley. 

"  That,  madam,  would  depend  upon  the  character  of  the 
lady,  whose  favor  he  might  endeavor  to  secure." 

"  You  evade  me  with  your  usual  address,  Mr.  Leslie," 
said  Mrs.  Stanley.  "  What  is  it,  do  you  think,  the  ladies 
most  particularly  affect  in  gentlemen  who  may  pay  them 
attentions  ?" 


SCENES   AT   WASHINGTON.  47 

"  Sound  principles,  and  high  standing  amongst  men, 
madam,"  was  the  reply." 

"  You  pay  us  a  compliment  in  this,"  said  Mrs.  Stanley  ; 
"  but  the  captain  would  well  come  under  your  rule,  and,  I 
think,  would  secure  an  interest  in  any  lady's  heart  he  might 
attempt." 

"  I  have  no  disposition  to  dispute  what  you  say,  madam," 
replied  Charles. 

"  But  I  have,"  said  Lucy. 

"  And  I,"  added  Clara,  "  have  no  intention  it  shall  be 
considered  that  I  am  to  be  made  a  captive  so  easily  as 
Mrs.  Stanley  contemplates." 

"  We  shall  see,"  said  the  lady,  rising,  and  leaving  the 
room  upon  a  summons  by  her  servant. 

Charles  Leslie  then  entered  into  conversation  with  the 
young  ladies,  and  after  making  many  inquiries  after  old 
acquaintances,  particularly  Mrs.  Sydenham,  to  whom  he 
was  much  attached,  "  I  have  often  heard  of  you  since  your 
arrival  at  Washington,"  said  he  ;  *'now  tell  me  what  you 
think  of  it.  Have  you  found  the  Garden  of  Eden  ?" 

"  As  to  externals,  Mr.  Leslie,"  said  Clara,  "  certainly  not : 
as  to  other  matters,  yes." 

"  Then  the  tree  of  the  knowlege  of  good  and  evil,"  said 
Charles,  "  is  here  anyhow,  and  you  have  already  tasted  the 
forbidden  fruit." 

"  We  have  tried  several,"  she  replied,  "  and  have  found 
none  unpalatable." 

"  They  may  do  the  more  injury  on  that  very  account," 
said  Charles. 

"  To  ourselves,  do  you  mean,  Charles  ?"  inquired  Agnes. 


48  SCENES   AT   WASHINGTON. 

"  To  others,  as  well  as  to  yourselves." 

"  If  to  ourselves,  Mr.  Leslie,"  said  Lucy,  "  we  must  bear 
it  as  well  as  we  can :  if  to  others,  as  we  do  not  intend  in 
jury,  we  ought  to  be  excused." 

"  Not  always,  1  fear.  Miss  Marchmont,"  Charles  replied. 
"  Carelessness  may  come  within  your  rule  of  no  intention  to 
do  injury,  and  yet  may  sometimes  produce  as  much  as 
malevolence  itself." 

"  Injury  to  ourselves,  then,  is  the  question,"  said  Clara. 
"  How  are  we  to  do  ourselves  any  injury  in  this  gay  place, 
where  there  are  so  many  things  to  be  amused  at,  and  so 
many  people  to  be  amused  with  ?" 

"  What  is  the  object  of  amusement  ?"  inquired  Charles. 

"  To  pass  our  time  agreeably,  to  be  sure,"  replied  Clara. 

"  Would  it  not  be  better  to  employ  your  time  usefully  ?" 

"  Staid,  married  women  may  do  that,"  said  Clara : 
"  young  ladies  have  no  occasion." 

"  I  wish  you  would  think  further  and  more  seriously," 
replied  Charles.  "  Young,  as  well  as  old  ladies  have  their 
duties,  and  it  is  the  duty  of  the  young  to  establish  such 
principles  as  will  secure  their  happiness.  But  if  amuse 
ment  be  the  sole  object  pursued,  there  will  be  no  time  for 
this,  and,  what  is  worse,  there  will  soon  be  no  disposition. 
Would  not  this  be  to  do  yourself  great  injury  ?" 

"  I  will  tell  you,  Mr.  Leslie,"  said  Lucy,  '*  what  Clara 
has  been  doing,  and  you  may  then  call  it  what  you  please. 
She  won  money  at  cards  from  gentlemen ;  but  to  do  her 
justice,  I  must  add,  she  was  so  ashamed  of  it,  that  she  rose 
from  the  table  suddenly,  ran  out  of  the  room,  and  left  it  to 
Mr.  Sydenham  to  scrape  it  all  up.  Then,  she  is  a  great 


SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON.  49 

admirer    of   the    new   German    dance   lately   introduced 
amongst  us,  though  as  yet  she  has  not  danced  it  herself." 

"  Not  guilty  as  to  the  winning  money,"  said  Clara  ;  "  I 
confess  to  the  other." 

"  And  I  am  sorry  it  is  necessary  you  should,"  replied 
Charles.  "  I  have  heard  of  the  dance  which  Miss  March- 
mont  speaks  of,  and  am  astonished  that  it  should  ever  have 
got  footing  amongst  us.  From  the  accounts  I  have  had  of 
it  from  some  officers  with  whom  I  am  acquainted,  it  is" 

"  What  ?"  said  Agnes. 

"  I  cannot  say  what,"  replied  Charles,  "  but  I  will  say 
this  much, — if  you  knew  how  gentlemen  speak  of  it,  you 
would  never  dance  it." 

Charles  then  turning  to  Clara,  inquired  of  her,  if  Mrs. 
Stanley  was  an  intimate  acquaintance  of  hers. 

"  I  have  that  pleasure,  Mr.  Leslie,"  she  replied.  "  Per 
haps  I  should  have  said  the  honor." 

"  I  am  very  sorry  to  hear  you  call  it  a  pleasure,  and  I 
deny  it  to  be  any  honor." 

"  How  so  ?     What  do  you  mean  ?" 

"  I  mean  just  what  I  say,"  replied  Charles.  "  You  havo 
heard,  I  suppose,  how  freely  she  is  spoken  of,  and  her  dis 
regard  of  it  all.  Can  it  be  a  pleasure  to  you,  and  can  yoi 
think  it  to  be  an  honor,  to  have  an  intimacy  with  a  lady 
who  pays  no  respect  to  the  proprieties  of  life, — perhaps,  in 
deed,  to  the  safeguards  of  character  ?" 

"  I  have  heard  of  the  reports  which  I  suppose  you 
allude  to,"  said  Clara,  "  but  I  do  not  believe  them,  though 
appearances,  I  allow,  are  against  her." 

"  You  know  where  it  is,"  said  Charles,  "  that  I  find  the 

3 


50  SCENES   AT   WASHINGTON. 

only  safe  principles  for  human  conduct.  '  Avoid  all  appear 
ance  of  evil,'  is  a  rule  which  has  the  stamp  of  divinity  upon 
it,  and  believe  when  I  tell  you,  that  whoever  is  not  willing 
to  avoid  the  appearance  of  evil,  will  soon  be  prepared  to 
admit  its  reality." 

The  earnestness  with  which  Charles  Leslie  spoke  had  its 
effect.  Clara's  quick  feelings  subjected  her  to  deep  impres 
sions  whenever  fair  and  honest  appeals  were  made  to  her 
understanding.  Her  speaking  face  told  in  a  moment  that 
reflection  was  busy  with  her.  Agnes  now  took  up  the 
defence. 

"  You  are  censorious,  Charles,"  said  she.  "  Mrs.  Stanley 
chooses  to  travel  her  own  road,  and,  if  you  do  not  like  it, 
keep  away,  and  do  not  disturb  her  or  others  who  may 
choose  to  travel  it  with  her." 

"  But  I  will  disturb  others,"  he  replied,  "  if  I  see  others, 
in  whose  welfare  I  am  interested,  in  such  company.  Re 
member  the  French  adage,  Agnes,  '  c'est  ne  que  le  premier 
pas  qui  coute,'  or  the  remark  of  your  favorite  Boileau,  *  un 
chute  toujours  attire  un  autre  chute.' " 

"  I  do  not  admit,"  said  Agnes,  "  the  application  of  either 
to  the  present  subject." 

"  It  might,  perhaps,  be  unreasonable,"  Charles  replied, 
"  to  expect  you  should.  You  are  too  young  and  inex 
perienced  in  life  for  that,  but  youth  and  inexperience  only 
increase  the  dangers  which  arise  from  improper  associa 
tions.  The  road  of  life  is  thickly  set  with  dangers,  and  if 
we  will  obstinately  pursue  it  as  our  first  and  sole  object, 
we  shall  certainly  find  disappointment.  Who  can  tell  what 
changes  may  pass  upon  you  all  within  a  few  years  ?" 


SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON.  51 

Changes  they  were  indeed  ! 

At  this  moment  the  door  opened,  and  gave  admittance 
to  two  or  three  young  men,  one  of  them  a  son  of  old  Col. 
Darby  of  the  army  of  the  Revolution.  They  came  to  in 
quire  for  the  health  of  the  ladies  after  the  last  night's  ball. 
Charles  now  became  a  listener,  but  soon  found  that  he 
might  listen  during  the  whole  morning  to  very  little  purpose. 
The  conversation  consisted  of  the  usual  vapid  talk  of  idlers 
with  young  ladies,  set  off  with  what  wit  they  were  able  to 
show,  and  a  great  deal  of  gallantry.  Mr.  Darby,  by  his 
close  seat  to  Clara,  and  his  earnest  and  low  tone  of  voice, 
seemed  endeavoring  to  ingratiate  himself  into  her  favor. 
He  had  at  last  advanced  so  far  as  to  get  possession  of  her 
reticule,  and  appeared  to  be  admiring  its  fabric  of  white 
satin,  and  still  more,  the  birds  which  were  beautifully 
painted  upon  it.  At  this  moment  Charles  Leslie,  who  had  all 
this  time  preserved  a  dead  silence,  drew  the  attention  of  the 
whole  company  upon  himself,  by  asking  Clara  to  give  him 
the  painting  for  his  watch-case.  "  Hand  me  your  watch," 
she  replied,  "  that  I  may  cut  it  to  its  proper  size."  With 
out  being  well  able  to  account  to  himself  for  the  sudden 
impulse  which  had  dictated  his  request,  Charles  now 
became  embarrassed  at  the  readiness  with  which  it  was 
granted,  not  divining,  however,  how  the  scene  was  to  end. 
A  few  moments  sufficed  to  show.  The  painting  was  in 
stantly  cut  out  and  placed  in  the  watch,  and  the  reticule 
spoiled.  Coloring,  and  then  bowing  to  the  fair  giver, 
Charles  resumed  his  seat,  and  the  company  soon  afterwards 
took  leave.  How  long  that  gift  was  kept,  and  cherished, 
and  gazed  upon  !  How  strong  and  enduring  the  impres- 


SCENES   AT   WASHINGTON. 


sion  which  the  first  appearance  of  preference  makes  upon 
the  young  heart !  Go  the  world  as  it  may,  in  after  days  it 
still  delights  to  dwell  on  scenes  when  it  loved  first  and  loved 
entirely. 

"  I  like  your  admirer  prodigiously,  Clara,"  said  Lucy 
Marchmont,  "  and  as  you  say  you  can  do  as  you  please 
with  your  captives,  suppose  you  deliver  him  over  to  me." 

"  He  is  an  obstinate  exception  to  my  practice  in  such 
cases,"  replied  Clara  ;  "  nor  have  I  fully  made  up  my  mind 
yet  to  part  with  him.  He  always  sets  me  to  thinking 
seriously  when  he  is  with  me,  and,  indeed,  sometimes  when 
he  is  absent ;  but  after  all  it  comes  to  nothing." 

Charles  was  wending  his  way  home.  "  What  does  all 
this  mean  ?"  thought  he.  "  She  is  prompt  enough  to  affront 
any  one  she  does  not  like,  and  to  make  any  one  keep  such 
distance  as  she  may  see  fit,  and  yet  she  spoils  her  reticule 
at  my  first  asking  for  the  painting  upon  it."  "  Is  not  that 
your  vanity  ?"  whispered  something  within  him.  "  How 
do  you  know  that  she  would  not  have  done  the  same  thing, 
had  Mr.  Darby  requested  it?"  But  Charles  Leslie  had  no 
vanity.  It  was  no  difficult  matter,  therefore,  to  settle  the 
question  in  his  own  mind,  that  no  preference  had  drawn  the 
painting  from  her.  Still,  the  whole  scene,  and  her  look, 
and  manners,  and  attractions  at  the  moment,  made  sad  work 
within  him. 

Two  days  afterwards,  Charles  Leslie  had  gone  to  Van- 
derhorn's  to  see  Mr.  Sydenham  on  some  public  business, 
and  had  been  conversing  for  a  few  moments  only  with  the 
ladies,  when  the  servant  ushered  in  Capt.  Jackson  on  a  visit 
to  Mrs.  Stanley.  Charles  was  obliged  by  the  laws  of  po- 


SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON.  53 

liteness  to  introduce  him.  Mrs.  Stanley  soon  came  in,  and 
Mr.  Sydenham  sending  for  Charles  to  his  room,  he  took  his 
leave. 

There  exists  generally  amongst  military  men,  distin 
guished  in  their  profession,  an  ease  and  dignity  of  manners 
which  is  rarely  found,  in  an  equal  degree,  with  men  in  the 
walks  of  civil  life.  To  consciousness  of  the  trust  confided 
by  their  country  to  their  patriotism  and  ability  as  its  defend 
ers,  the  habit  of  command  imparts  also  a  self-possession, 
which  puts  the  officer  at  ease  with  others,  and  makes  others 
easy  with  him.  He  carries  with  him  into  the  society  of  the 
world  with  which  he  may  be  called  occasionally  to  mingle, 
the  courtesies  of  the  mess-table  of  his  regiment,  and  there 
is  hardly  to  be  found  more  elegant  manners  thus  formed, 
than  we  often  see  amongst  officers  of  rank.  But  as  in  most 
things  there  are  exceptions,  so  there  are  in  this.  One  step 
beyond  self-possession  becomes  boldness,  and  one  beyond 
the  proper  effort  to  please  others,  is  very  apt  to  evince  a 
superiority  which  would  produce  an  opposite  effect.  The 
captain,  unfortunately,  was  not  able  to  draw  this  line  dis 
tinctly.  Relying  too  much  upon  his  fine  military  appear 
ance,  his  manners,  instead  of  being  easy,  were  forward  and 
presuming,  while  his  bold  stare  at  the  female  loveliness  be 
fore  him,  disgusted  the  sensitiveness  which  met  it.  Some 
few  minutes'  conversation  and  manoeuvring  on  his  part,  con 
vinced  Clara  and  Lucy,  that  Mrs.  Stanley's  prediction  as 
to  a  siege,  or  at  least  an  attack,  was  likely  to  be  verified. 

After  some  commonplace  inquiries  by  Mrs.  Stanley  of 
the  captain,  in  relation  to  his  family, — 

"  And  what,  George,  has  brought  you  to  the  city  of  con- 


54  SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON. 

fusion,"  said  she,  "  where  so  many  languages  are  spoken,  and 
so  little  of  them  understood  ?  And  what  fair  one  from  the 
south  or  the  north  has  enlisted  you  in  her  service  ?" 

"  Public  business  has  brought  me  here,  is  my  answer," 
replied  the  captain,  "  to  your  first  question.  As  to  the 
second,  I  have  not  yet  sufficiently  reconnoitred  so  as  to 
know  to  whom  I  may  offer  service.  At  present,  I  am  only 
looking  about  me."  And  he  fixed  his  black  eyes,  first  upon 
Clara,  then  upon  Lucy,  as  if  he  were  critically  comparing 
them. 

"  Indeed  !"  said  Mrs.  Stanley.  "  Then  I  predict  it  will 
not  be  long  before  I  see  you  engaged, — perhaps  defeated." 

"  An  engagement,  with  military  men,"  replied  the  cap 
tain,  "  means  a  battle, — opposition, — and  this  I  have  not  yet 
encountered,  and  have  not,  of  course,  met  a  defeat." 

"  Perhaps  the  captain  does  not  think  he  could  meet  with 
one,"  said  Lucy,  addressing  herself  to  Mrs.  Stanley. 

"  Perhaps  so,"  replied  the  captain,  briskly  drawing  up  his 
fine  form  to  its  full  height,  and  playing  with  his  sabretash. 
"  Field-officers,  it  is  admitted,  are  great  favorites  with  the 
ladies,  go  where  they  may ;  and  I  do  not  see  why  captains, 
so  near  them  in  rank,  should  not  be  as  much  so." 

"  At  Washington,  captain  ?"  inquired  Clara. 

"  I  do  not  see,  Miss  Sydenham,"  he  replied,  "  why  Wash 
ington  should  be  an  exception." 

"  Nor  do  I,"  said  Mrs.  Stanley.  "  We  certainly  do  not 
find  here,  the  ease  of  manners  and  the  fine  appearance  of 
our  officers,  amongst  members  of  Congress,  or  any  others 
that  crowd  this  place  through  the  winter." 

Clara  and  Lucy  already  perceived  the  vanity  and  for- 


SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON.  55 

wardness  which  formed  such  prominent  features  in  the 
captain's  character  ;  and,  from  their  high  sense  of  female 
dignity,  were,  in  despite  of  his  fine  military  appearance, 
already  disgusted  with  his  manners.  Nor  were  they  less 
so  at  Mrs.  Stanley,  for  encouraging  him  in  the  expression 
of  sentiments  which  strongly  implied,  that  no  lady  could 
resist  his  attentions.  They  interchanged  looks  which 
each  well  understood,  and  soon  afterwards  rose  and  went 
to  their  own  room.  As  soon  as  they  had  shut  the  door, 
they  turned  and  faced  each  other  for  a  moment,  and  then 
both  broke  out  into  a  loud  laugh. 

"  You  have  nothing  left  for  it,  Lucy,"  said  Clara,  "  but  to 
surrender  at  discretion.  An  epaulette  is  not  to  be  resisted, 
even  at  Washington.  Poor  girl!  how  unfortunate,  that 
you  should  have  met  the  captain  so  soon,  and  thus  lose  all 
chance  for  a  member  of  Congress  !" 

"  Look  to  yourself,  Clara,"  replied  her  friend.  "  I  am  by 
no  means  sure  that  I  am  to  be  the  object  of  attack.  I  ad 
mit  some  oeiliads,  very  severe  for  a  beginning ;  but  as  I 
saw  that  you  received  as  many,  I  think  it  quite  as  likely 
that  you  will  be  summoned  to  surrender  as  soon  as  I 
shall." 

"  Then  you  may  rely  upon  it,"  said  Clara,  "if  I  am,  he 
shall  have  a  lesson  in  female  tactics  that  shall  last  him  till 
he  is  a  major-general.  It  is  an  insult  to  our  whole  sex,  as 
well  as  to  ourselves  personally,  to  use  such  language  in  our 
hearing,  and  that,  too,  at  a  first  introduction." 

"  And  did  you  observe  Mrs.  Stanley  ?"  said  Lucy.  "  I 
strongly  suspect  that  Mr.  Leslie's  opinion  of  her  is  just.  I 


56  SCENES  AT  WASHINGTON. 

thought  at  the  time  that  it  was  harsh,  but  now  I  am  inclined 
to  think  that  it  was  not  harsh  enough." 

"  I  have  known  Charles  Leslie  a  long  time,"  replied 
Clara,  "  and  respect  his  judgment  greatly.  He  spoke,  you 
may  recollect,  with  much  earnestness  upon  the  occasion 
you  refer  to,  and  it  has  put  me  upon  my  guard.  If  Mrs. 
Stanley  thinks  to  bring  me  under  her  management,  she 
will  certainly  find  herself  mistaken." 

"  Who  are  these  ladies  ?"  inquired  the  captain,  of  Mrs. 
Stanley,  as  soon  as  they  had  retired.  "  They  are  certainly 
very  showy  in  their  appearance,  and  I  found  it  difficult  to 
decide  which  is  the  most  so." 

"  They  are  the  daughters  of  two  members  of  Congress, 
one  of  them,  Mr.  Sydenham,  on  the  administration  side, 
has  considerable  influence,  it  is  thought  :  the  other, 
less  so." 

"  Are  they  rich  ?"  demanded  the  captain. 

"  I  cannot  answer  you  that  question,"  returned  the  lady, 
"  as  they  are  not  from  the  south,  as  we  are.  Perhaps 
Leslie,  with  whom  I  see  you  are  acquainted,  can  tell  you. 
But  what  are  you  musing  upon  ?" 

"  It  is  useless  to  disguise  my  affairs  from  you,"  said  the 
captain,  "  and  perhaps  you  will  assist  to  further  them.  The 
threatening  appearances  between  the  United  States  and 
Great  Britain  have  given  rise  to  the  probability  of  a  war  ; 
and  rumor  is  rife  that  Congress  will  authorize  the  raising 
of  additional  regiments.  I  think  my  claims  to  the  com 
mand  of  one  are  not  to  be  disputed  ;  still,  it  would  be  pru 
dent  to  get  aid  from  such  quarter  as  I  can.  Now,  if  I 
draw  one  of  these  ladies  into  an  engagement,  to  be  followed 


SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON.  57 

up  to  marriage  if  I  see  fit  hereafter,  it  might  secure  my 
object  effectually." 

"  Oh  !  as  to  your  being  able  to  do  this,  I  have  no  doubt 
your  appearance  and  rank,  George,  will  secure  your  suc 
cess.  All  the  girls  you  see  here  are  in  the  market,  and  the 
supply  is  so  great  that  there  is  no  little  competition  amongst 
them  who  shall  get  the  first  offers.  I  think,  too,  I  can  help 
you  with  the  two  you  have  just  seen." 

Thus  these  heartless  beings  would  have  trifled  with  feel 
ings  of  which  they  knew  nothing  themselves,  and  have 
made  both  honor  and  principle  subservient  to  their  own 
selfish  purposes. 

Charles  Leslie  had  been  compelled  by  the  rules  of  so 
ciety  to  introduce  Captain  Jackson  to  the  ladies,  under  the 
fortuitous  circumstances  in  which  he  had  been  placed  when 
the  captain  called  to  see  Mrs.  Stanley.  His  solicitude  as 
to  the  result  of  an  acquaintance  which  he  was  the  unwilling 
instrument  of  having  formed,  increased  upon  him  every 
step  he  took  up  Pennsylvania  Avenue,  towards  his  lodgings. 
As  he  neared  them,  he  looked  at  his  watch,  and  found  that 
there  were  nearly  two  hours  to  dinner,  when  he  might  ex 
pect  to  meet  his  rival,  as  he  already  considered  him.  He 
had  then  time  enough  to  mark  out  his  own  line  of  cautious 
behavior, — determined,  as  well  to  evince  no  interest  in  the 
inquiries  he  expected  the  captain  would  make  of  him, 
as  to  observe  him  closely. 

"  I  am  your  debtor,  Mr.  Leslie,"  said  the  captain,  "  for 
the  introduction  you  gave  me  this  morning  to  Miss  Syd- 
enham  and  Miss  Marchmont.  You  appear  to  be  an  old 
acquaintance." 

3* 


58  SCENES  AT  WASHINGTON. 

"  Of  Miss  Sydenham,"  replied  Charles.  "  My  acquaint 
ance  with  Miss  Marchmont  is  of  this  session  only." 

"Are  they  the  daughters  of  the  gentlemen  of  their 
names — members  of  Congress  ?" 

11  They  are,"  replied  Charles. 

"  Are  these  gentlemen  rich  ?" 

"  Mr.  Sydenham,"  replied  Charles,  "  has  a  large  landed 
and  personal  property.  Of  Mr.  Marchmont's  wealth,  I 
know  nothing :  the  general  opinion  is,  he  is  rich.  Your 
inquiries  are  to  the  point,  captain." 

"  I  am  a  stranger  here,"  he  replied,  "  and  wish  to  know 
something  of  the  society  I  may  meet  during  the  winter." 

"  It  is  well  to  throw  out  scouting  parties,  captain,"  said 
Mr.  Lewis,  from  the  head  of  the  table.  "  An  engagement 
then  cannot  come  on  by  surprise." 

"  It  is  a  small  matter  to  me,  sir,"  he  replied,  "  how  it 
comes  on,  as  I  think  myself  able  to  capture  any  I  may 
engage." 

"  But,  captain,"  retorted  Mr.  Lewis,  "  Washington  is  a 
new  field  in  which  you  have  never  yet  manoeuvred.  The 
elite  of  the  beauty,  wealth,  and  fashion  of  the  Union  are 
here,  and_  it  may  be  prudent  to  abate  somewhat  of  your 
confidence." 

"  *  Faint  heart  never  won  fair  lady/  is  the  old  saying," 
said  the  captain,  "  and  my  success  elsewhere  leads  me  to 
expect  the  same  here." 

"  Indeed  !"  said  Mr.  Lewis,  with  a  twist  of  his  mouth. 

The  servant  had  now  cleared  off  the  dessert,  and  the 
gentlemen,  except  Mr.  Lewis  and  Charles,  had  retired. 
"  Leslie,"  said  Mr.  Lewis,  lighting  his  cigar,  and  puffing 


SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON.  59 

away  violently  at  intervals,  "  that  is  a  high  fellow.  He  is 
certainly  very  handsome,  but  I  have  rarely,  up  to  this  my 
thirty-fifth  year,  met  such  consummate  vanity  in  a  military 
man.  I  never  saw  anything  of  this  in  any  one  officer  of 
the  army  I  am  acquainted  with." 

"  Nor  I,"  replied  Charles,  "  and  I  know  many  of  them 
well.  They  are  of  a  high  tone  of  character,  with  manners 
easy  and  unassuming  ;  abrupt,  it  is  true,  sometimes, — in  a 
soldier's  fashion,  but  never  obtrusive.  I  greatly  admire 
them, — Captain  Decatur  particularly.  I  have  seen,  too, 
officers  of  the  army  of  very  dignified  deportment,  and  I 
think  that  the  captain  is  hardly  a  fair  sample  of  that  arm 
of  the  national  force.  But  what  was  that  you  said  about 
your  thirty-fifth  year  ?  Surely,  I  have  heard  you  confess 
to  forty-five  I" 

Lewis  burst  into  a  laugh.  "  You  think  you  have  caught 
me,  you  young  rogue,  do  you  ?  Now  remember  I  am  gone 
back  to  thirty-five  for  this  winter,  that  I  may  rival  the  cap 
tain  in  the  good  graces  of  the  ladies." 

"  Success  to  you,"  said  Charles,  as  he  rose  from  the 
table. 

'*  Stop,  Leslie,  stop,"  said  Lewis  ;  but  he  was  gone. 


60  SCENES   AT   WASHINGTON. 


CHAPTER    V. 

VANDERHORN'S  never  failed  to  be  resorted  to  at  night, 
when  balls  were  not  given,  by  visitors  to  the  ladies  or  to 
the  gentlemen,  or  to  both,  that  composed  the  society. 
Cards  for  the  elderly  gentlemen,  music  from  the  ladies,  and 
agreeable  and  interesting  conversation  from  all,  gave  con 
stant  inducement  to  repeat  visits  that  were  found  to  be  so 
pleasant.  Mr.  O'Connor,  by  his  hereditary  Irish  wit  and 
incessant  good-humor,  became,  in  a  short  time,  a  great 
favorite  with  all,  especially  with  the  girls  ;  as  his  own  age, 
more  than  double  theirs,  precluded  the  thought  that  he 
could  be  a  serious  admirer-  for  any  of  them.  Mr.  Hollis 
was  a  different  character.  Notwithstanding  that  he  was 
about  twenty-seven  years  of  age  only,  he  was  grave  and 
retired,  appeared  to  be  always  in  deep  thought,  and,  unless 
excited  by  conversation,  his  features  were  harsh.  But 
when  animated,  his  flow  of  ideas  and  choice  of  expression 
bespoke  him  to  be  no  ordinary  man,  and  made  him  even 
handsome.  It  had  been  but  a  short  time  since  he  com 
menced  making  any  acquaintance  with  Clara  and  Lucy, 
but  had  given  his  attention  to  Mrs.  Marchmont  and  Agnes. 
The  animation  and  intelligence  of  the  two  young  ladies  had, 
however,  begun  to  thaw  what  appeared  to  be  ice  exter 
nally,  and  the  fire  that  was  hidden  beneath  was  soon 


SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON.  61 

visible.  But  it  was  not  yet  apparent  to  an  observer,  to 
which  the  proud  son  of  the  Old  Dominion  had  given  his 
preference. 

A  hack  was  standing  one  evening  before  a  fashionable 
boarding-house  on  Pennsylvania  Avenue,  and  just  as  a 
gentleman  came  out,  closely  wrapped  up  in  his  cloak,  to 
get  into  it,  another  came  up  on  foot,  to  go  into  the  house. 
"  Where  are  you  going,  Leslie  ?"  said  Captain  Jackson. 
"  You  appear  to  be  particularly  well  dressed  this  evening." 

"  To  Vanderhorn's,  on  Capitol  Hill." 

"  That  is  lucky,"  said  he  ;  "I  have  just  come  in  to  make 
some  preparations  for  a  visit  there  myself.  Be  so  good  as 
to  wait  for  me  but  two  minutes,  and  we  will  go  together." 

"  This  man  crosses  my  path  incessantly,''  said  Charles, 
as  he  stood  in  the  passage.  "  I  was  forced  by  an  accident 
to  introduce  him  at  Vanderhorn's,  and  now,  by  another,  I 
am  forced  to  give  him  an  opportunity  to  make  good  use  of 
it.  In  future  he  shall  go  by  himself,  I  engage  for  it." 

The  captain  now  reappeared  in  full  uniform,  and  cer 
tainly  looked  very  handsome.  A  formidable  rival  he  might 
well  be  considered  by  any  one,  more  especially  by  one 
upon  whom  jealousy  had  fixed  her  fangs.  Charles  Leslie 
was  already  sensible  of  this,  and  said  little  during  the  short 
ride  to  Vanderhorn's.  The  gentlemen  of  the  company 
were  all  in  the  room,  with  Mrs.  Stanley,  who  introduced 
the  captain  to  Mr.  Sydenham  and  Mr.  Marchmont.  With 
the  others  he  was  already  acquainted,  and  particularly  so 
with  Mr.  O'Connor.  The  young  ladies  came  in  soon  after 
wards  with  Mrs.  Marchmont. 

"  Indeed,    indeed,"   said   Mr.    O'Connor,   affecting   his 


SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON. 


Irishisms,  "  it  is  your  own  own  self,  captain,  I  see,  and  a 
handsome  fellow  you  are  sure.  What  a  pity  you  were  not 
born  when  your  father  was,  and  now  you  would  be  a 
general,  and  seventy  years  old  into  the  bargain." 

"  A  bull !  a  bull !"  cried  Mr.  Sydenham,  and  a  burst  of 
laughter  followed  Mr.  O'Connor's  sally. 

"  Truth,  and  so  it  is,"  said  he,  "  now  I  think  of  it ;  but 
sure  my  mother  made  a  little  mistake  in  not  waiting  to 
have  me  born  in  county  Cork,  in  old  Ireland,  instead  of 
Ulster,  here  in  New  York." 

The  laugh  still  continued,  when  Mr.  Sydenham  turning 
to  O'Connor,  asked  him  "  How  it  was  he  spoke  so  correctly 
in  the  House,  and  eschewed  so  well  there  all  manner  of 
bulls  and  brogues  ?" 

"  That  happens,  Mr.  Sydenham,"  he  replied,  "  because  I 
watch  for  the  bulls  before  they  get  to  the  tip  of  my  tongue, 
otherwise  out  they  come  before  I  know  it.  Once,  indeed, 
when  I  first  began  to  speak,  I  made  a  small  one,  which  set 
the  whole  house  on  a  roar,  and  what  did  Mr.  Speaker  do 
(ill  luck  to  him)  but  call  me  to  order.  Sure,  too,  it  is  a 
good  thing  to  have  amongst  us  some  one  who,  in  any  way, 
can  put  us  in  a  good  humor,  when  we  are  fast  getting  into 
a  bad  one." 

"  Your  remark  is  very  just,  Mr.  O'Connor,"  said  Mr. 
Marchmont.  '*  Young  as  we  are  in  legislation,  it  is  painful 
to  perceive  that  already  the  decorum  of  debate,  which 
ought  to  mark  all  the  proceedings  of  deliberative  assem 
blies,  is  giving  way  to  occasional  personalities  that  dis 
grace  us." 

"  It  is  likely  to  grow  worse  instead  of  better,"  said  Mr. 


SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON.  63 

Longfield.  "  As  the  representation  is  increased,  and  young 
county  court  lawyers  are  sent  here,  fond  of  talking  for  the 
galleries,  but  without  experience,  which  the  great  Bacon 
tells  us,  is  the  best  wisdom,  we  shall  have  men  amongst  us 
who  have  not  sense  enough  to  stop  when  they  are  done." 

"  And  are  you  not  after  being  very  severe,  Mr.  Long- 
field,"  said  Mr.  O'Connor,  "  and  not  altogether  right  either. 
I  was  talking  the  other  day  with  an  attache  of  the  British 
Legation,  respecting  their  ready  use  of  the  cavalry  broad 
sword  upon  assemblages  of  the  people,  and  told  him  that 
much  ill-humor  went  off  in  words  if  they  were  not  taken 
notice  of.  '  No  !  no  !'  said  he,  briskly,  '  that  will  not  do 
for  John  Bull ;  he  must  have  his  head  broke/  Now,  sure, 
let  our  young  lawyers  talk,  and  no  harm  will  come  to  any 
but  themselves,  in  exposing  their  ignorance,  or  vanity, 
which  will  defeat  their  return  afterwards  as  members  of 
the  House." 

"  It  will  take  two  generations,"  replied  Mr.  Longfield, 
"  before  any  such  result  can  be  had.  Education  must  be 
more  general — must  even  be  universal ;  and  when  the 
human  mind  is  thus  equalized,  the  lawyers  will  then  take 
their  proper  level.  At  present,  they  are  above  what  is  just 
and  equal.  A  power  of  stringing  words  together,  as  Bona 
parte  calls  it,  is  considered  as  intelligence  of  itself,  and  the 
greatest  man  amongst  us  will  soon  be  thought  to  be  him, 
who  will  speak  four  days  continuously  upon  the  same  sub 
ject.  I  have  heard  it  said,  that  George  Washington  and 
Benjamin  Franklin  were  never  known  to  speak  more  than 
twenty  minutes  upon  any  subject  before  the  Old  Congress  ; 


64  SCENES  AT  WASHINGTON. 

but  they  kept  close  to  the  main  point,  and  never  failed  to 
make  a  deep  impression  upon  their  hearers." 

tilHumanum  est  errare,'  is  the  old  adage,"  said  Mr. 
Sydenham.  "  Mistakes  are  made  by  the  people,  no  doubt, 
in  the  fitness  as  legislators,  of  many  they  send  here.  Nev 
ertheless,  I  have  strong  confidence  in  their  increasing  intel 
ligence,  and  certain  of  their  attachment  to  republican  gov 
ernment.  Our  eagle  is  destined  to  take  a  glorious  flight !" 

'*  Unless  the  British  clip  his  wings,"  said  the  captain. 

"  That  they  will  try  it  once  and  again,  I  have  no  doubt," 
replied  Mr.  Sydenham,  "  and  that  they  will  be  disgraced,  I 
am  just  as  certain.  We  are  too  dilatory  in  making  prep 
arations  for  an  event  that  is  evidently  approaching,  and  I 
fear  that  we  shall  suffer  much  before  we  can  buckle  on  our 
armor,  even  for  defence.  But  no  fear  that  the  sons  of  the 
Fathers  of  the  war  of  the  Revolution  will  not  succeed  as 
well  in  the  next.  Besides,  there  is  our  young  navy,  which, 
though  not  able  to  give  battle  in  fleets,  may  disgrace  them 
in  fights  between  single  ships,  and  thus  destroy,  in  the 
opinion  of  Europe,  the  belief  of  British  invincibility  upon 
the  ocean." 

"  But  you  said  that  Great  Britain  would  try  it  once  and 
again,"  said  the  captain.  **  When  will  that  again  be  ?" 

"  The  next  generation  will  see  it,"  replied  Mr.  Syden 
ham.  "  A  great  naval  power  we  must  be,  from  our  posi 
tion.  Our  resources  for  it  are  inexhaustible.  Our  enemy 
is  hastening  us  onwards  towards  it,  and  one  great  naval 
victory  in  fleets,  decides  her  fate.  It  is  a  strange  thing  to 
me,  that  her  statesmen  are  so  blinded  by  ambition  that 
they  cannot  take  one  look  into  futurity.  Even  Lord  Chat- 


SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON.  65 

ham  was  in  this  position  when  he  said  he  '  would  not  suffer 
us  to  manufacture  a  hob-nail.'  Was  that  great  man  not 
able  to  perceive  the  consequences  sure  to  arise  out  of  the 
increase  of  our  population  ?  And  what  madness  to  sup 
pose  that  the  resources  of  so  vast  a  country  as  this  were 
never  to  be  brought  forward,  in  order  that  the  manufacto 
ries  of  a  little  island  in  the  Atlantic  might  flourish  !  It  is 
not  less  so  in  her  statesmen  now,  to  suppose  that  we  can 
not  fight  her  successfully  with  single  ships  ;  and  those  who 
may  be  in  power,  half  a  century  to  come,  may  be  just  as 
blind  in  supposing  that  we  cannot  beat  them  in  battle  with 
fleets  upon  the  ocean.  But  * prius  dementat.'  The  mother 
may,  one  day,  fly  for  protection  to  the  daughter,  after  hav 
ing  ruined  herself  in  vain  efforts  to  arrest  her  progress  to 
empire." 

"  It  is  impossible,"  said  Mr.  Marchmont,  "  to  foresee 
what  is  to  be  the  end  of  these  astonishing  events  that  are 
still  convulsing  the  whole  world.  Great  Britain  may  fall 
under  the  attacks  of  Bonaparte  ;  but  I  doubt  it.  I  have 
lately  been  in  that  country,  and  from  what  observation  I 
could  make,  and  from  all  I  could  learn,  I  am  satisfied  that 
her  power  is  enormous,  and  still  increasing  ;  but  that  she 
is  undermining  the  general  prosperity  of  her  people  at 
home,  is  evident.  The  lands  are  now  held  by  few,  the 
great  body  of  the  English  yeomanry,  once  the  pride  and 
strength  of  the  nation,  have  nearly  disappeared,  and  little 
is  now  seen  but  extremes,  in  the  vast  wealth  of  the  aris 
tocracy  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  excessive  poverty  of  the 
working  classes  on  the  other.  She  resembles  Rome  in  the 
early  period  of  her  decline,  when  the  senator  possessed  an 


SCENES    AT  WASHINGTON. 


annual  income  of  four  thousand  pounds  weight  of  gold, 
and  the  people  were  fed  by  distributions  of  grain,  bought 
by  the  public  treasury.  Her  present  are  like  death  strug 
gles  :  she  strikes  on  every  side  ;  and  in  her  attack  upon 
the  Chesapeake  frigate,  has  roused  up  another  enemy  that 
may  yet  give  her  cause  to  repent  it." 

"  And  one  day  will  commit  similar  outrages  upon  our 
territory,"  said  Mr.  Sydenham.  "  Yet  I  should  be  sorry 
to  see  her  reduced  under  French  domination.  I  have  al 
ways  detested  her  ever-grasping  and  ambitious  projects  ; 
and,  no  doubt,  the  good  of  the  world  will  require  at  some 
future  period,  that  a  league  should  be  formed  to  check  her, 
as  much  as  a  league  is  now  thought  necessary  to  check  the 
ambition  of  the  new  Emperor  of  the  French.  There  is  no 
difference  to  speak  of,  between  the  universal  empire  on 
land  of  the  French,  and  the  universal  empire  on  the  sea  of 
the  British.  Europe  may  resist  the  first ;  we  shall  have 
to  resist  the  latter,  and  in  doing  it,  repay  Great  Britain  for 
the  robberies,  insults,  and  injuries  she  has  heaped  upon  us 
for  a  century." 

"  From  my  heart,"  said  Mr.  O'Connor,  "  I  wish  she 
would  loosen  her  hold  on  Old  Ireland  a  bit.  One  of  the 
most  painful  sights  I  ever  saw,  is  the  utter  poverty  of  the 
vast  mass  of  the  Irish  peasantry  ;  and  one  of  the  most 
revolting  to  my  feelings  as  an  Irishman  by  descent,  was  to 
see  the  fat,  sleek  coachman  of  some  English  nobleman, 
cutting  away  from  his  box,  with  his  whip,  upon  the  bare 
legged  and  famishing  Irish  boys,  who  were  running  at  the 
side  of  the  coach,  begging  for  a  penny.  But  let  us  stop," 
he  added  ;  "  we  lose  ourselves  in  speculating  upon  futu- 


SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON.  67 

rity,  and  my  Irish  blood  is  soon  heated  when  I  begin  to 
talk  of  the  degradation  of  my  good  old  father's  land. 
There,  Mr.  Sydenham,  is  the  card-table  just  set  out.  Come 
here,"  said  he,  calling  to  the  captain,  "  and  give  these  gen 
tlemen  the  pleasure  of  winning  a  half  year  of  the  pay  they 
will  vote  you  in  the  Army  Appropriation  Bill." 

"  It  would  be  more  agreeable,"  said  the  captain,  "  if  the 
gentlemen  would  increase,  instead  of  diminishing  it." 

"  Fairly  answered,  captain,"  said  Mr.  Sydenham,  as  he 
rose  to  go  near  the  table  ;  the  company  at  which  had  been 
increased  by  the  entrance  of  some  gentlemen  from  the 
adjoining  house. 

Mr.  Marchmont  was  a  Presbyterian,  and  did  not  play 
cards.  Addressing  Charles  Leslie,  <:  I  am  glad  to  find," 
said  he,  "  that  you  reject  card-playing  even  as  an  amuse 
ment.  It  is  dangerous  even  as  such,  for  it  is  very  apt  soon 
to  become  a  passion." 

"I  reject  it,  Mr.  Marchmont,  from  religious  principles," 
said  Charles. 

"  Better  still,  my  young  friend,"  replied  Mr.  Marchmont. 
"  I  have  long  lived  in  the  world,  and  observed  it  closely, 
and  am  well  satisfied  that  none  other  are  sufficient  to  sus 
tain  us  under  the  trials  and  difficulties  to  which  we  are 
constantly  exposed.  But  have  you  ever  considered  the 
influence  which  Christianity  has  had  upon  civil  liberty  ?" 

Mr.  Hollis  had  approached  near  enough  to  where 
Charles  Leslie  stood  in  conversation  with  Mr.  Marchmont, 
to  hear  the  question,  and  Charles's  answer. 

"  I  have  had  my  attention  much  drawn  to  the  subject," 
he  replied,  "  in  the  course  of  my  reading  of  history,  and 


68  SCENES  AT  WASHINGTON. 

found  it  to  be  of  deep  interest  to  all.  But  I  found  it  also 
to  be  so  extensive,  that  I  am  by  no  means  master  of  all  its 
details.  What  has  particularly  struck  me,  is  this — that 
liberty,  such  as  the  great  body  of  the  people  possessed 
under  the  feudal  system,  was  lost  under  the  false  system 
of  Romanism  ;  but  had  its  origin  again  under  the  Puritans 
of  England  after  the  Reformation  was  preached  by  Luther, 
was  enlarged,  and  finally  established  by  their  influence 
upon  the  English  government." 

"  What  is  that  you  have  asserted,  Mr.  Leslie  V9  said  Mr. 
Hollis,  who  had  now  joined  them. 

Charles  repeated  what  he  had  just  said  to  Mr.  March- 
mont. 

"  But  do  you  not  know,"  said  Mr.  Hollis,  "  that  liberty 
existed  in  Spain  more  than  one  hundred  years  before  the 
Puritans  arose  ?" 

"  Yes,"  replied  Charles ;  "  and  do  you  not  know  that  it 
was  lost  in  the  defeat  of  Padilla  by  the  Emperor  Charles 
the  Fifth  ?" 

"  Admit  that,  but  you  will  see  that  liberty  may  have 
been  originated  without  the  aid  of  your  favorite  Puritans, 
and  even  amongst  barbarous  nations  ;  such  as  those  that 
overturned  the  Roman  Empire." 

"Not  such  liberty  as  Christianity  teaches  and  enforces," 
replied  Charles.  "  The  Bible,  in  unfolding  the  relative  duties 
of  the  rulers  and  the  ruled,  sets  forth  the  social  duties  like 
wise  in  the  most  perfect  manner,  and  founding  them  upon  the 
divine  authority,  has,  of  necessity,  produced  a  knowledge 
of  human  rights,  infinitely  beyond  what  even  the  Greeks 
and  Romans,  much  less  what  barbarians  knew.  But  the 


SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON.  69 

question  is  not  so  much  as  to  the  extent  of  the  knowledge 
of  their  rights  as  men,  that  different  nations  have  possessed 
from  age  to  age,  but  of  the  firmness  which  men  exercised 
to  recover  them  when  lost,  to  give  them  further  progress, 
and  finally  to  establish  and  secure  them.  The  liberty  of 
the  Spaniard,  before  the  Reformation,  though  upheld  by  all 
the  power  of  the  Justiza,  fell  under  the  sword  of  the 
monarchy,  as  the  liberty  of  the  Frank,  though  upheld  by 
all  the  power  of  the  Mord  Dom,  had  fallen  long  before 
under  the  sword  of  the  aristocracy.  The  liberty  which 
the  Puritans  of  England  originated,  was  extended  vastly 
beyond  that  of  the  Spaniard  or  Frank,  and  when  the  con 
test  with  Charles  the  First  came  on,  they  were  found  to  be 
a  different  sort  of  men  to  deal  with,  from  the  men  of  any 
nation  who  had  preceded  them,  or  who  then  existed.  In 
the  Bible  they  found  their  rights,  and  from  the  Bible  they 
derived  the  firmness  to  establish  them." 

"  Your  knowledge  of  history,"  said  Mr.  Hollis,  "  appears 
to  be  so  limited,  you  do  not  know  that  the  rights  of 
Englishmen  were  secured  by  Magna-Charta,  in  the  reign 
of  King  John." 

"  Compare,"  replied  Charles,  "  the  provisions  of  Magna- 
Chart,  extorted  by  the  barons,  (not  by  the  people,)  and 
mainly  for  their  own  advantage,  with  those  of  the  Petition 
of  Right,  in  the  time  of  Charles  the  First,  and  you  will 
perceive  how  much  more  extended  are  the  latter.  But 
Magna-Charta  was  repeatedly  violated,  and  the  most  mon 
strous  abuses  of  human  rights  existed,  until  the  Reforma 
tion.  What  was  liberty  worth  when  the  property  of  the 
subject  could  be  levied  upon  by  the  crown  for  ship-money, 


70  SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON. 

or  forced  loans  exacted  by  the  same  authority  ?  Or  where 
was  the  security  for  a  man's  life  or  limb  when  the  Star- 
Chamber  was  in  existence  ?" 

"  Your  argument,"  said  Mr.  Hollis,  "  might  be  carried  so 
far,  as  to  attribute  to  the  Puritans  all  the  liberty  that  even 
we  in  the  United  States  enjoy." 

"  It  certainly  may  and  ought,"  replied  Charles  Leslie. 
"  We  derive  it  from  Englishmen,  and  even  Hume,  writing 
as  a  historian,  was  compelled,  for  his  own  reputation's 
sake,  to  say  that  '  the  Puritans  gave  origin  and  progress  to 
civil  liberty  ;  and  that  to  them,  Englishmen  owe  all  the 
freedom  of  their  Constitution.'  I  have  quoted  him  cor 
rectly.  This  admission  on  the  part  of  an  infidel,  was 
extorted  by  facts  so  strong,  that  he  could  not  deny  them. 
However  it  may  be  elsewhere,  we  Marylanders  certainly 
know  whence  our  civil  liberty  was  derived,  for  our  Bill  of 
Rights  is  nearly  a  transcript  of  that  of  the  Puritans  of 
England." 

"  It  is  absurd,"  said  Mr.  Hollis,  "  to  found  civil  liberty 
upon  fanaticism,  and  Hume  himself,  since  you  quote  Hume, 
says  they  were  fanatics." 

"  You  are  right,  sir,"  said  Charles,  "  Hume  does  say  so ; 
but  in  that  he  lays  himself  open  to  the  charge  of  ignorance, 
or  inconsistency,  or  absurdity.  I  will  use  a  passage  of  the 
Scriptures  as  an  argument.  '  How  can  a  bad  tree  bring 
forth  good  fruit?'  How  then  can  fanaticism,  a  corrupt 
principle,  originate  and  secure  civil  liberty  ?  Hume  forgot 
himself  strangely  in  that  part  of  his  history.  I  have 
thought  it  wonderful  that  this  deep  thinker  did  not  perceive 
how  he  had  committed  himself.  His  pretended  fanatics 


SCENES   AT   WASHINGTON.  71 

were  men  of  vast  intellect,  and  were  practical  Christians, 
holding  the  great  doctrine  of  the  divinity  of  our  Lord. 
You  yourself  bear  the  name  of  one  of  the  most  distin 
guished  amongst  them." 

"  I  have  no  disposition  whatever,"  replied  Mr.  Hollis, 
"  to  trace  my  descent  from  any  such  stock,  nor  ambitious 
of  being  considered  as  holding  any  such  opinions.  Chris 
tianity  .with  us  is  at  a  low  ebb  :  at  the  end  of  this  genera 
tion,  man,  relying  upon  the  dignity  of  human  nature,  will 
be  able  to  see  and  to  discharge  all  his  duties  by  his  own 
powers." 

"  He  never  has,  never  will,  and  never  can,"  said  Charles, 
"  or  there  is  no  truth  in  what  we  read  and  see.  Even  in 
our  own  country  we  have  had  many  men  distinguished  for 
great  talents,  yet  infamous  for  some  of  the  basest  vices 
that  can  degrade  human  nature.  And  to  make  the  case 
the  stronger,  such  men  are  often  found  upon  the  seat  of 
justice,  to  award  the  penalties  of  the  law  upon  others  less 
criminal  than  themselves  ;  or  to  legislate  for  this  rising 
country,  when  they  themselves  are  ready  to  break  the 
laws  they  have  just  made.  Mr.  Jefferson,  in  his  Notes  on 
Virginia,  speaking  upon  the  subject  of  slavery,  says,  '  I 
tremble  for  my  country  when  I  consider  that  God  is  just. 
I  tremble  for  it  when  I  see  men  swear  to  support  the  Con 
stitution  upon  that  book  which  commands  '  Thou  shalt  do 
no  murder,'  and  then  see  them  seek  each  other's  life  before 
the  session  is  at  an  end.  Men  may  call  this  what  they 
will,  but  I  must  tremble,  as  Mr.  Jefferson  says  he  did  upon 
another  subject,  when  I  see  practical  atheists,  and  proved 
to  be  so  by  their  conduct,  seated  either  in  our  halls  of 


72  SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON. 

legislation,  or  upon  the  bench  of  justice.  All  the  civil 
liberty  we  possess  came  through  the  Bible,  and  by  the  Bible 
only  can  it  be  perpetuated." 

"  Did  the  French,  at  the  commencement  of  their  revolu 
tion,"  inquired  Mr.  Hollis,  "  derive  the  knowledge  of  their 
rights  from  the  Bible  ?" 

"  Certainly  not,"  replied  Charles  Leslie  ;  "  and  their 
efforts  to  establish  civil  liberty  have  ended  in  a  military 
despotism.  The  religion  of  the  Bible  had  been  corrupted 
by  Romanism,  and  by  alliance  with  the  state  when  the 
revolution  broke  out ;  and  its  horrors  are  a  sad  commentary 
upon  the  dignity  of  human  nature,  upon  which  you  lay  so 
much  stress.  There  is  also  another  period  in  French  his 
tory,  bearing  strongly  upon  the  question  of  results  follow 
ing  internal  disturbances,  as  affected  by  the  principles 
which  give  rise  to  them.  The  league  of  the  Fronde  was 
convulsing  France,  at  the  time  the  Puritans  were  contend 
ing  for  civil  liberty  in  England.  The  Frondeurs  gained 
nothing :  the  Puritans  everything.  The  French  Fron 
deurs  were  Romanists :  the  English  Puritans,  Protestants. 
The  contest  was  then,  is  now,  and  will  continue  to  be,  the 
Bible  against  despotism." 

"  If  that  is  to  be  it,"  said  Mr.  Hollis,  "  we  may  as  well 
submit  to  our  fate  at  once.  Great  Britain  herself,  the 
mother  of  the  Puritans,  has  much  to  learn  yet  as  to  the 
equality  of  human  rights." 

"  No  doubt,"  replied  Charles.  "  Her  church  establish 
ment  is  the  cause  of  it,  and  it  will  one  day  prove  her  ruin, 
as  Romanism  did  that  of  France.  The  alliance  of  church 
and  state  is  the  curse  of  the  world.  But  the  rulers  of  all 


SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON.  73 

nations  and  in  all  ages,  have  ever  perceived  the  influence 
which  religion  might  bring  to  bear  upon  human  conduct ; 
and  have  then  bought  up  priests,  or  clergy,  as  the  case 
might  be,  to  aid  the  ambitious  projects  of  the  state.  Thus, 
Christianity  has  been  mixed  up,  in  the  Old  World,  with  the 
worst  passions  of  our  nature  ;  until  corruption  having 
reached  its  height,  revolutions  necessarily  follow.  So  far 
from  being  ended,  they  are  but  just  begun." 

"  There  is  a  vast  dignity  in  human  nature,"  said  Mr. 
Hollis.  "  Enlarge  it  by  education  :  it  will  secure  us  in  the 
United  States,  and  we  will  leave  Europe  to  struggle  into, 
or  out  of,  her  convulsions  as  she  may." 

"  Education  is  very  desirable,  no  doubt,"  replied  Charles, 
"  but  let  it  be  founded  upon  the  Bible.  Enlarge  the  human 
mind  then,  with  science,  as  much  as  you  will,  and  we  are 
safe." 

"  Not  upon  the  Bible,"  said  Mr.  Hollis,  warmly,  as  he 
turned  off  to  another  part  of  the  room ;  "  and  for  this,  I 
have  Mr.  Jefferson's  authority." 

Mr.  Marchmont  had  remained  an  interested  listener  to 
the  young  men,  without  interfering  in  any  way  between 
them.  A  Presbyterian  himself,  he  was  not  a  little  pleased 
to  find  that  Charles  Leslie  was  well  informed  upon  the  subject 
on  which  he  had  been  disputing  with  Mr.  Hollis.  Holding 
out  his  hand  to  him,  "  I  am  gratified,  young  gentleman,"  he 
said,  "  at  the  manner  you  have  supported  so  good  a  cause. 
Your  ground  is  firm  :  I  have  never  myself  met  any  one 
upon  it,  who  can  shake  it,  Your  opponent  replied  by  call 
ing  the  Puritans  fanatics.  I  have  often  had  the  same 
answer  myself." 

4 


74  SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON. 

"  I  am  a  very  poor  advocate  for  so  great  a  cause,  Mr. 
Marchmont,"  replied  Charles,  "  and  rarely  undertake  it ; 
but  as  Mr.  Hollis  seemed  to  seek  the  dispute,  I  would  not 
decline  it." 

The  conversation  which  had  just  taken  place,  was  within 
hearing  of  Mrs.  Marchmont,  Clara,  and  Lucy.  The  ear 
nestness  with  which  it  was  carried  on,  and  Mr.  March- 
mont's  continued  attention  to  it,  had  gradually  engaged 
theirs  also.  "  Did  you  hear  that,  girls  ?"  said  Mrs.  March 
mont.  "  Whoever  gets  Mr.  Hollis,  will  get  a  man  who  is 
to  secure  her  happiness  by  the  dignity  of  human  nature, 
not  by  the  influence  of  Christianity  upon  himself.  You 
are  exposed  here,  my  child,"  she  added  seriously,  turning 
to  Lucy,  "  in  a  way  that  I  did  not  expect,  or  I  should 
hardly  have  let  you  come." 

"  I  am  in  no  danger,  mamma,"  replied  Lucy,  "  from  Mr. 
Hollis,  or  his  dignity,  or  infidelity." 

Clara,  too,  had  listened  to  the  dispute  between  the  rivals, 
as  well  as  heard  Mr.  Marchmont's  commendation  of 
Charles,  which  some  remains  of  her  first  attachment  made 
yet  sound  pleasant  to  her.  Her  judgment,  too,  fully  ad 
mitted  the  soundness  of  the  principles  he  contended  for,  as 
alone  conducive  to  happiness  ;  but  her  pride  combated 
violently  against  their  practical  application.  Strange  per 
versity  of  our  nature,  which  Christianity  only  can  explain, 
that  the  understanding  may  be  convinced,  yet  the  will 
refuse  its  assent ! 


SCENES    AT  WASHINGTON.  75 


CHAPTER    VI. 

IT  is  a  matter  of  deep  interest  to  observe  the  variety 
and  intenseness  of  the  feelings  which  are  constantly  opera 
ting  upon  the  human  mind.  The  passions  are  incessantly 
at  war  with  reason  and  conscience  in  the  acquisition  of 
whatever  object  happiness  is  supposed  to  consist  in.  With 
the  mere  man  of  the  world,  who  pursues  the  world  as  his 
first,  and  last,  and  sole  enjoyment,  the  passions  have  the 
full  mastery  over  better  and  more  ennobling  motives.  But 
with  the  professor  of  religion  it  is  otherwise.  He  dare  not 
pursue  any  object  whatever,  but  with  reference  to  the 
Divine  government ;  and  though  he  may,  and  often  does 
suffer,  like  the  martyr  at  the  stake,  he  still  cries  out, 
"  Though  he  slay  me,  yet  will  I  trust  in  him ;"  or,  in  the 
language  of  his  great  High  Priest,  "  Not  my  will,  but  thine 
be  done."  Perhaps,  in  those  trials  which  so  thickly  beset 
our  road  through  life,  there  are  few  that  induce  severer 
sufferings  than  those  that  spring  from  attachments  deeply 
fixed.  In  such,  there  is  something  of  a  communion  of 
mind  perfectly  intelligible  to  each,  often  without  even  the 
intervention  of  language.  The  thoughts  that  spring  up  in 
one  heart,  are  instantly  seized  upon  by  the  other,  and  the 
desire  and  effort  to  please,  is  as  contemporaneous,  as  it  is 
mutual.  A  bitter  thing  it  is,  when  worldly,  selfish  motives 


76  SCENES   AT   WASHINGTON. 

are  suffered  to  separate  two  hearts  thus  united  ;  but  very 
pleasant  it  is,  when  after  trials  long  and  severe,  though 
better  fitting  them  for  each  other,  they  are,  at  last,  united 
by  a  Providence,  as  unfailing  in  its  watchfulness,  as  it  is 
unceasing  in  its  goodness. 

"  Give  space,  Agnes,"  said  Charles,  after  Mr.  Marchmont 
had  left  him  :  and  he  seated  himself  between  her  and 
Lucy. 

"  Charles,"  said  Agnes,  "  I  have  heard  a  sad  account  of 
you,  from  a  lady  of  my  acquaintance  in  Georgetown." 

"  What  is  it  ?"  he  inquired.  "  Nothing  improper,  I 
hope." 

"  Very  hard-hearted  on  your  part,  any  how,"  she  replied. 
"  It  is,  of  the  decided  preference  a  lady  has  shown  for  you, 
and  the  cold  manner  in  which  you  have  received  it." 

Charles  found  himself  embarrassed.  "  It  is  not  worth 
while  to  reply  seriously  to  such  a  charge,"  said  he.  "  I  do 
not  expect,  or  wish  for  advances  on  the  part  of  any  lady  ; 
that  would  be  to  reverse,  as  Mr.  Jefferson  says,  the  order 
of  antecedent  relations." 

"  You  see,  Lucy,"  said  Agnes,  laughing,  "  he  does  not 
deny  it,  but  only  evades  it.  But  you  had  no  business  to 
tell  it,  Charles." 

"  I  never  did,"  he  replied.  Desirous  of  changing  the 
subject,  he  turned  upon  Agnes. 

"  I  see  what  you  are  after,"  said  he.  "  You  know  I 
promised  to  wait  for  you,  and  you  are  now  afraid  I  shall 
remind  you  of  it.  How  is  it,  Miss  Marchmont  ?  Can  you 
tell  me  who  is  my  rival  ?" 


SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON.  77 

"  Not  positively,  as  yet,"  replied  Lucy  ;  "  but  I  can  guess 
and  calculate  about  it." 

"  Then  I  see  from  your  expressions,"  said  Charles,  "  that 
it  must  be  some  gentleman  from  down  East.  You  faith 
less  Agnes,  to  give  me  up  so  soon  !  Are  you  not  afraid 
that  I  shall  drown  myself?" 

"  Not  in  the  least,  Charles,  on  my  account,  or  on  account 
of  any  one  else.  I  have  been  very  faithful  to  you  for  four 
years,  and  I  think  that  ought  to  satisfy  you.  Besides,  if  I 
happen  to  like  another  better  than  you,  how  can  I  help  it  ?" 

"Very  true,  Agnes.  Love  accommodates  itself  to  an 
easy  morality,  very  readily  at  Washington." 

Their  attention  was  now  drawn  to  a  conversation  which 
was  going  on  between  Clara,  Mrs.  Stanley,  and  the  captain, 
who  had  just  asked  Clara  to  waltz  with  him,  at  the  ap 
proaching  Assembly. 

"  You  must  excuse  me,  sir,"  said  Clara.  "  I  do  not 
waltz." 

"  Not  waltz  !"  said  the  captain,  with  surprise.  "  May  I 
ask  the  reason  ?" 

"  I  have  been  taught,  sir,"  she  replied,  "  that  such  ex 
hibitions  are  not  consistent  with  female  decorum.  Public 
opinion,  as  yet  at  least,  has  put  its  disapprobation  upon  it." 

"  Public  opinion  is  a  fool,"  said  Mrs.  Stanley.  "  Let  me 
advise  you,  Miss  Sydenham,  to  disregard  it,  as  I  do.  I 
follow  or  adopt  what  I  like,  and  leave  it  to  others  to  say 
what  they  like.  There  can  be  no  greater  tyranny  than  the 
old-fashioned  notions  about  decorum,  propriety,  public 
opinion,  and  such  like." 

"  That  is  a  road,  Mrs.  Stanley,"  said  Clara,  "  which  I  am 


78  SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON. 

not  disposed  to  walk  in.  There  are  but  a  few  steps  be 
tween  a  disregard  of  propriety  and  the  absence  of  any." 

"  This  is  prudery,  downright,  Miss  Sydenham,"  replied 
Mrs.  Stanley.  "  I  had  hoped  that  the  society  at  Washing 
ton  had  by  this  time  rubbed  out  the  rustic  notions  you 
brought  here ;  and  I  think  that  Captain  Jackson  has  cause 
to  consider  himself  as  insulted  by  your  refusal." 

"  Captain  Jackson  must  judge  of  that  for  himself, 
madam,"  said  Clara ;  "  but  no  doubt  he  will  recollect,  that 
the  objection  was  to  the  dance  only." 

Mrs.  Stanley  had  formed  a  very  false  estimate  of  Clara's 
character,  and  held  in  contempt  the  principles  of  propriety 
which  the  ladies  of  the  olden  times  early  inculcated  into 
their  daughters.  She  little  expected,  therefore,  the  pointed 
refusal  to  be  influenced  by  her,  that  Clara  had  evinced; 
and  was,  moreover,  piqued  by  the  imputation  upon  herself, 
which  Clara's  expressions  had  plainly  implied.  With  dis 
gust  in  her  manner,  and  muttered  terms  about  ignorance  of 
society  and  prudery,  she  rose  and  went  to  another  part  of 
the  room.  The  captain  kept  his  seat,  and  continued  the 
conversation  with  Clara,  who,  too  well  bred  to  give  any 
evidence  that  she  considered  what  had  passed,  as  person 
ality,  made  an  effort,  by  her  usual  urbanity  of  manners,  to 
show  him  that  she  was  willing  to  treat  him  with  the  polite 
ness  which  the  rules  of  society  required.  But  this  only 
confirmed  him  in  the  opinion  that  he  was  advancing  to 
wards  the  attainment  of  his  object,  to  which  he  had  deter 
mined  to  make  either  Clara  or  Lucy  subservient.  In  this, 
however,  he  was  mistaken.  His  attentions  to  each  had 
been  alike  particular,  as  opportunities  offered ;  and  when 


SCENES   AT   WASHINGTON.  79 

they  retired  to  their  room  at  night,  never  failed  to  be  com 
mented  upon,  laughed  at,  and  communicated  to  Mrs. 
Marchmont.  As  yet,  all  his  batteries  had  made  no  impres 
sion  whatever  upon  the  citadels,  either  of  which  he  now 
thought  he  might  summon  to  surrender. 

But  while  these  operations  were  going  on  in  one  quarter, 
whence  Charles  Leslie  had  apprehended  so  much  danger, 
one  of  a  more  serious  nature  was  rapidly  rising  in  another, 
which  he  had  not  thought  of.  Cold  as  Mr.  Hollis  appeared 
to  be,  he  was,  however,  extremely  sensitive  to  female  love 
liness,  and  the  charms  of  female  conversation,  directed  by 
a  fine  judgment,  and  enlivened  by  a  wit  that  could  amuse 
him.  In  the  course  of  this  evening,  Charles  Leslie  had 
observed,  for  the  first  time,  his  close  attentions  to  Clara, 
and  a  pang  had  shot  through  his  heart.  He  saw  plainly 
that  all  his  fears  might  soon  be  realized.  To  a  man  of  Mr. 
Hollis's  standing,  there  could  be  no  objection  on  Clara's 
part,  unless  his  infidel  opinions,  of  which  he  was  a  bold 
asserter-upon  all  occasions,  might  cause  his  rejection.  But 
he  had  no  reason  to  expect  that  they  would.  Clara  had 
never  come  under  such  religious  influences,  that  he  knew 
of,  which  might  determine  her  to  reject  a  man  otherwise 
unexceptionable,  merely  for  his  disbelief  of  revelation. 
He  saw  that  the  moment  of  deciding,  whether  his  hope  of 
ever  winning  Clara,  by  the  value  she  might  set  upon  his  own 
principles,  was  rapidly  approaching.  "  Be  it  so,"  he  said  ; 
"  let  her  meet  the  trial,  and  I  will  bear  the  result,  for  I  feel 
assured  that  I  shall  be  able  to  do  it.  Dear  as  she  is  to  me 
still, — mixed  up  as  she  has  long  been  with  every  thought 
of  happiness  on  earth  I  have  had  for  years, — I  would  not 


80  SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON. 

wish  to  call  her  mine,  unless  she  believed  and  felt  that  the 
religious  principles  I  profess  are  those,  and  those  only, 
which  could  best  secure  her  happiness." 

Clara,  on  her  part,  had  begun  to  be  sensible  to  her  own 
position  as  it  regarded  Mr.  Hollis.  A  woman's  tact  was 
at  no  loss  to  discover  the  meaning  of  attentions,  which 
had  now  become  too  particular  to  be  any  longer  misunder 
stood, — and  her  pride  was  operating  powerfully  with  her, 
to  influence  the  decision.  A  man  of  character  and  stand 
ing,  she  saw  was  soon  to  be  at  her  feet :  an  elevated  posi 
tion  in  society  would  be  secured  by  a  connection  with  him  ; 
and  what  more  could  she  expect  ?  It  might  then  be  con 
sidered  as  foolish  to  refuse  an  offer  so  eligible,  and  which 
might  not  soon,  if  ever,  be  made  again  by  any  one.  True, 
his  infidel  opinions  alarmed  her  in  some  degree  ;  for  though 
brought  up  in  a  way  that  gave  her  no  clear  insight  into  the 
nature  of  Christianity  until  she  had  heard  Charles  Leslie 
explain  it  to  her  mother, — his  words  upon  that  occasion  had 
sunk  deep  into  her  heart,  and  the  internal  monitor  was  now 
inquiring,  what  security  she  had  for  happiness  in  life  with 
a  man  who  scoffed  at  the  obligations  imposed  upon  the 
passions  by  the  precepts  of  revelation.  Still,  her  pride, 
though  the  scales  were  yet  even  in  the  balance,  seemed 
likely  to  weigh  the  heaviest ;  nor  did  her  thoughts  of 
Charles  Leslie  add  anything  to  counterbalance  it.  She 
thought  of  him,  it  is  true, — of  his  long  attachment ;  his 
conversation  with  her  mother  perpetually  recurred  to  her 
like  a  warning  voice  ;  but  the  dissipation  at  Washington 
had  produced  its  usual  effect, — her  mind  had  begun  to  im 
bibe  the  infection — the  gangrene  was  spreading, — and  the 


SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON.  81 

image  of  Mr.  Hollis,  if  it  had  not  actually  displaced  that 
of  Charles  Leslie  in  her  heart,  was  seated  alongside  of  it. 
She  had,  however,  as  yet  formed  no  positive  determination 
upon  the  subject ;  upon  which,  though  she  well  knew  that 
her  happiness  depended,  she  was  not  so  fully  aware  how 
soon  she  might  be  called  upon  to  decide  it. 

Mr.  Hollis,  on  his  part,  had  been  no  careless  observer  of 
what  had  been  passing  before  him.  His  apprehensions, 
first  excited  by  the  captain's  assiduities,  had  been  quieted 
with  respect  to  him,  only  to  be  more  keenly  aroused  by 
his  observing  that  Charles  Leslie  held  frequent  conversa 
tions  with  Clara.  But  his  penetration  was  completely  at 
fault  to  ascertain  whether  Clara,  received  him  as  a  candi 
date  for  her  heart,  or  merely  as  an  old  and  valued  acquaint 
ance  of  her  family.  Still  under  the  influence  of  the  feel 
ing  of  mortification  he  had  sustained  in  his  dispute  with 
Charles  upon  the  progress  of  civil  liberty,  he  determined 
to  draw  something  from  Clara  by  which  he  might  discover 
their  relative  positions.  Taking  a  vacant  seat  by  her,  in 
the  course  of  the  evening,  and  engaging  her  attention  for 
a  short  time,  by  varying  it  with  remarks  respecting  Mr. 
Longfield,  and  Mr.  O'Connor,  "  And  there  is  Mr.  Leslie," 
said  he,  directing  Clara's  attention  towards  Charles,  who 
was  again  conversing  with  Mr.  Marchmont ;  "  he  is,  I 
believe,  Miss  Sydenham,  an  acquaintance  of  yours.  Is  he 
from  the  same  part  of  Maryland  as  your  father  ?" 

"  He  is,"  Clara  replied,  "  an  old  acquaintance  :  that  is, 
ever  since  he  left  college.  His  family  is  of  the  same 
county  as  ours,  and,  I  may  add,  one  of  the  oldest  and  most 

respectable  in  it." 

4* 


82  SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON. 

"  I  find  that  he  is  in  a  subordinate  situation  here,"  said 
Mr.  Hollis,  dexterously  bringing  his  own  in  contrast  with 
that  of  Charles.  "  It  is  often  an  unpleasant  thing  to  me  to 
find,  that  greater  distinctions  are  not  made  in  company  at 
Washington.  Do  you  not  think  that  the  reception  is  too 
general  ?" 

"  I  have  never  thought  about  it,"  replied  Clara.  "  It  has 
been  sufficient  for  me,  hitherto,  that  I  have  been  pleased 
with  the  company  at  our  house,  and  I  have  left  it  to  better 
judgments  to  say  who  should  compose  it." 

"  Am  I  to  understand  you,"  he  asked,  "  that  Mr.  Leslie's 
visits  are  particularly  agreeable  ?  For  my  part,"  he  added, 
"  it  would  be  more  agreeable  that  he  carried  his  puritanical 
notions  elsewhere." 

"  Mr.  Leslie,"  Clara  replied,  "  has  the  power  to  be  very 
agreeable,  or  disagreeable,  as  he  pleases  :  or,  as  to  the 
latter,  perhaps  it  may  be  that  his  plain  and  pointed  con 
demnation  of  what  he  considers  wrong  in  morals,  never 
fails  to  make  him  so  to  others." 

"  I  find  his  ideas  a  mass  of  absurdity,"  said  Mr.  Hollis. 
"  Christianity,  upon  which  he  is  for  building  everything,  is 
driven  out  from  '  William  and  Mary,'  as  I  hope  it  soon  will 
be  from  the  world,  which  it  has  burdened  with  opinions, 
superstitious,  fanatical,  or  subversive  of  the  dignity  of 
human  nature." 

Finding  himself  defeated  in  his  object  by  Clara's  guarded 
answers,  he  turned  into  a  different  channel ;  where  his 
powers  of  conversation,  intermingled  with  delicate  atten 
tions,  soon  effaced  the  feeling  of  apprehension  which  the 


SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON.  83 


expression  of  his  hatred  of  Christianity  had  excited  for  a 
moment.  And  thus  it  is  in  this  strange  world  !  Our  elec 
tion  of  good  or  evil  is  constantly  presented  to  us,  and  "  we 
stand  in  jeopardy  every  hour."  Nor  can  ignorance  be 
pleaded.  The  contending  principles  are  within  us,  inces 
santly  engaged  in  the  struggle,  to  which  we  can  no  more 
be  unconscious, 'than  we  can  be  to  our  natural  existence. 
"  Fearfully  and  wonderfully  are  we  made,"  and  who  is 
there  that  breathes,  that  at  some  period  or  other  of  life, 
has  not  known  the  place  and  hour  when,  in  this  awful  con 
test,  he  was  either  conqueror  or  conquered  ! 

It  so  happened,  from  the  position  in  which  Charles  Les 
lie  stood,  talking  with  Mr.  Marchmont,  that  he  had  heard 
Mr.  Hollis's  denunciation  of  Christianity,  and  it  had  led 
him  to  notice  his  close  attentions  to  Clara,  and  their  effect. 
His  apprehensions  were  now  greatly  increased ;  and  he 
determined  to  have  a  conversation  with  her  as  soon  as  he 
could,  and  warn  her,  as  far  as  propriety  would  allow  him 
to  do  so,  of  the  consequences  that  might  result  from  her 
placing  her  happiness  in  the  power  of  a  man,  who,  with  all 
the  pride  of  a  native  of  the  Old  Dominion  afloat  in  his 
composition,  had  superadded  upon  it  the  still  more  excep 
tionable  dogmas  of  infidelity,  unhappily  then  too  prevalent 
in  Virginia,  and  indeed  elsewhere.  A  moment's  reflection, 
however,  showed  him  that  he  would  have  no  chance  for 
this,  for  some  time  to  come.  An  Assembly  was  soon  to 
take  place, — to  be  followed  by  a  party  at  the  Secretary  of 
State's, — and  successively  at  other  dignitaries ;  and  he  thus 
found  himself  compelled  to  await,  as  well  as  he  could,  the 


84  SCENES    AT  WASHINGTON. 

end  of  all  this  round  of  dissipation.  With  quite  as  much 
upon  his  mind,  of  fears,  internal  agitation,  and  conflicting 
emotions  as  he  could  well  bear,  he  soon  afterwards  left  the 
room. 


SCENES  AT  WASHINGTON.  85 


CHAPTER    VII. 

"  SEE,  captain,"  said  Mr.  Lewis,  as  he  entered  the  room 
on  the  evening  he  returned  from  Vanderhorn's,  "  you  have 
dropped  something  out  of  your  hat ;  a  glove,  I  think.  Is 
it  un  gage  de  bataille  which  you  have  picked  up,  or  un 
gage  d?  amour  which  you  have  received  ?  Be  it  which  it 
may,  you  are  making  your  way,  I  find,  in  our  city." 

"  I  would  rather  consider  it  as  the  latter,"  replied  the 
captain,  "  and  perhaps  you  will  think  it  is  so,  when  you 
look  at  the  size  of  it." 

"  It  is  a  lady's,  indeed,"  said  Mr.  Lewis ;  "  a  trophy  won 
already,  captain  ?  You  carry  on  operations  like  a  French 
general  of  these  days,  or  like  Csesar  of  old,  who  could 
write  to  the  Roman  Senate,  *  veni,  vidi,  vici.'  I  had  some 
thoughts  of  entering  the  lists  with  you  myself  this  winter, 
but  your  brisk  movements  have  somewhat  daunted  me. 
Perhaps,  however,  I  may  turn  your  flank,  though  I  may 
not  be  able  to  meet  you  in  front.  May  I  know  the  name 
of  the  owner  of  the  glove  ?" 

"  How  can  you  ask  it  ?"  replied  the  captain,  gayly.  "  I 
keep  those  matters  secret.  It  is  accident  only  that  has  put 
you  in  possession  of  the  knowledge  you  have  :  an  engage 
ment  only  with  the  fair  owner  would  justify  me  in  giving 
her  name." 


SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON. 


"  If  that  is  your  position,"  replied  Mr.  Lewis,  "  I  do  not 
despair  of  beating  you  yet.  Many  a  battle  that  has  been 
thought  to  be  won,  has  been  lost  after  all." 

"  The  commanders  then,"  said  the  captain,  "  must  have 
had  but  little  experience  or  skill  in  their  profession.  The 
first  impression  should  be  followed  up,  and  bringing  for 
ward  all  the  reserved  forces  at  the  critical  moment,  the 
enemy  must  then  yield." 

'*  Operations  with  ladies,  at  least  in  this  city,"  replied  Mr. 
Lewis,  "  do  not  altogether  resemble  those  of  a  field  of 
battle.  The  reserve  on  their  side  consists  of  cool-headed, 
or  calculating,  or  covetous,  or  ambitious  fathers,  who  can 
create  a  rout  from  a  quarter  whence  an  attack  was  not 
expected." 

"  I  am  under  no  apprehensions  from  any  of  them." 

"  Don't  be  too  sure,"  said  Mr.  Lewis  ;  "  you  may  meet 
with  your  match  yet,  and  more  than  your  match.  The 
ladies  at  Washington  are  of  the  highest  style  of  fashion, 
accomplishments,  and  intellect,  in  our  country,  and  are  not 
such  an  easy  conquest  as  you  may  suppose." 

"  So  much  the  more  honor,"  replied  the  captain,  with 
great  consequence  of  manner,  "  in  carrying  off  one  of 
them.  It  would  be  a  greater  conquest  than  seizing  a  pair 
of  colors  in  the  heat  of  an  engagement." 

"  I  am  curious  to  see  the  result  of  your  campaign,  I 
confess,  and  think  I  shall  be  able  at  the  Assembly  to  judge 
better  of  your  talents.  But  I  repeat  to  you,  do  not  be  too 
confident." 

"  Very  well,"  replied  the  captain,  "  then  we  meet  again 


SCENES   AT   WASHINGTON.  87 

at  Philippi.  Make  your  observations,  and  you  will  admit 
that  my  confidence  is  well  founded." 

Mr.  Lewis  was  a  gentleman  of  high  character,  who  had 
served  abroad  in  a  public  situation  of  considerable  trust. 
He  had  been  residing  in  Washington  for  some  time  past, 
awaiting  a  new  appointment  which  had  been  promised  to 
him.  He  was  well  acquainted  with  the  world,  lively,  full 
of  wit  and  anecdote,  and  unexceptionable  in  his  deportment 
throughout.  He  possessed  an  almost  intuitive  perception 
of  the  weak  side  of  a  man's  character  ;  and  discovering  in 
a  moment  the  excessive  vanity  which  marked  captain  Jack 
son's,  determined  to  affect  a  disbelief  of  his  powers  of 
attracting  and  fixing  the  beauty  assembled  at  Washington, 
and  thus  lead  him  to  display  more  conspicuously  a  weakness 
too  prevalent  with  military  men. 

The  breakfast  table  was  scarcely  cleared  away  the  next 
morning,  when  Mrs.  Stanley  drove  up  to  the  door,  and 
inquired  for  Captain  Jackson.  He  immediately  went  down 
to  her,  and  after  some  short  conversation  with  her  at  the 
carriage,  handed  her  out,  and  then  led  her  to  the  drawing- 
room,  which  was  now  vacant. 

"  I  wished  to  see  you,  George,"  she  said,  "  to  learn  from 
you  what  prospects  you  have  here.  Are  you  confident  of 
making  interest  with  the  Government  ?  Appearances  for 
an  increase  of  the  army,  I  learn  from  good  authority,  are 
more  and  more  promising.  Have  you  decided,  as  yet, 
how  to  make  the  interest  you  will  need,  most  available  ? 
Friends  are  absolutely  necessary  everywhere,  when  any 
thing  is  to  be  obtained  in  the  nature  of  appointments ;  and 
young  as  our  government  is,  you  may  be  sure  that  it 


SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON. 


is  as  necessary  here,  as  it  is  at  the  Tuilleries,  or  at  St. 
James's." 

"  I  know  of  no  mode,"  he  replied,  "  by  which  my  wishes 
could  be  furthered,  better  than  by  that  I  mentioned  when  I 
first  called  upon  you.  Both  Mr.  Marchmont  and  Mr.  Syd- 
enham  have  no  small  interest  here,  and  I  am  carrying  on 
my  movements  with  the  young  ladies  with  very  fair  pros 
pects  of  success.  But  I  think  you  went  too  far  with  Miss 
Sydenham  the  last  evening.  It  might  be  more  prudent  not 
to  lay  open  to  her  your  own  opinions,  with  so  little  disguise." 

"  I  am  very  independent,  as  you  know,"  said  the  lady, 
"  in  thinking,  speaking,  and  acting ;  and  I  have  found 
women  enough  here  ready  imitators  in  all.  But  I  saw 
you  in  close  conversation  with  Miss  Sydenham  after  I  left 
you,  and  afterwards  with  Miss  Marchmont.  To  which  of 
them  do  you  intend  to  apply  your  most  vigorous  opera 
tions  ?" 

"  I  can  hardly  say  yet  to  which,"  he  replied,  "  nor,  to 
speak  out,  do  I  much  care.  Probably  the  Assembly  may 
decide  it.  It  will  be  an  exciting  time,  and  an  excitable 
company.  I  do  not  think  that  any  place  presents  such 
opportunities  for  close  attentions  and  impressions,  as  par 
ties  where  music,  dancing,  wine,  and  dress  are  all  found, 
and  are  all  combined  to  put  the  blood  in  rapid  circulation. 
Upon  an  occasion  like  that  near  at  hand,  I  make  no  ques 
tion  that  I  could  form  an  engagement  with  both  of  the 
ladies,  in  the  course  of  the  evening,  and  half  a  dozen  more 
besides.  Do  you  think  that  these  Assemblies  are  for  any 
purpose  on  earth,  but  to  assist  young  people  to  fall  in  love, 
as  it  is  called,  with  one  another  ?" 


SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON. 


"  And  to  give  older  people  opportunities  of  profiting  by 
their  follies,"  said  Mrs.  Stanley.  "  Many  a  time  have  I 
laughed  heartily  at  the  vexation  plainly  seen,  under  the 
most  mortifying  disappointments  that  the  mothers  and 
daughters  have  met  with,  in  finding  the  arrows  aimed  at 
the  breast  of  one  gentleman,  fall  harmless  at  his  feet,  or 
strike  another,  not  thought  of,  nor  cared  for.  And  all  this 
planning  and  scheming  carried  on  under  the  pretence  of 
amusement,  of  seeing  Congress  in  session,  or  of  dining  at 
the  President's.  And  these  mothers  are  so  nice,  that  they 
forbid  some  particular  kinds  of  dances,  and  the  daughters 
are  so  dutiful  as  to  obey  !  It  is  all  affectation,  depend  upon 
it.  Their  coming  here  is  proof  against  them  ;  and  they 
might  Justus  well  stick  up  a  notice,  '  Two  daughters  just 
arrived,  and  ready  to  be  disposed  of  in  marriage.  Inquire 
within.'  Real  virtue,  if  there  be  any  such  thing,  does  not 
seek  temptation  in  order  to  test  its  strength,  and  would 
even  shun  dissipation  as  dangerous.  You  may,  then,  I 
assure  you  again,  consider  the  women  as  waiting  to  jump 
into  your  arms  ;  and  you,  in  that  mode,  may  jump  into  the 
command  of  a  regiment." 

**  I  hope  so,"  said  the  captain,  "  and  hope  it  may  be  soon. 
In  fact,  my  leave  of  absence  will  be  out  in  two  weeks  at 
furthest,  and  I  have  had  a  pretty  plain  hint  already  from 
the  War  Department,  that  my  presence  with  the  regiment 
would  be  more  agreeable  than  it  is  at  Washington.  I 
must  therefore  make  all  the  dispatch  I  can,  in  securing 
interest ;  I  can  then  leave  the  city  with  confidence,  and  my 
engagement  standing  over.  After  all,  I  begin  to  find  my 
feelings  somewhat  concerned  in  my  success,  as  well  as 


90  SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON. 

my  interest.  Both  these  ladies  are  so  showy  and  accom 
plished,  that  I  should  fall  in  love,  as  it  is  called,  if  such  a 
thing  could  happen  to  me." 

"  As  to  that,  George,"  replied  Mrs.  Stanley,  "  you  could 
not  do  a  more  foolish  thing.  A  man,  who  knows  as  much 
of  the  world  as  you  do,  should  be  done  with  such  feelings, 
and  with  talking  such  nonsense.  Advancement  in  life  is 
the  great  object,  and  the  manner  of  securing  it  the  main 
thing  to  be  looked  to." 

"  You  know  very  well,"  said  the  captain,  "  that  I  agree 
with  you  in  these  matters.  But  how  do  you  get  on  with 
your  claims  upon  the  Government  ?" 

"  Not  to  my  satisfaction  as  yet,"  she  replied.  **  There 
is  an  indisposition  to  act  upon  such  cases  at  present..  I 
have,  however,  promises  of  an  appointment  abroad  for 
Henry." 

"  That  is  something,  however,"  said  the  captain.  "  I  see 
you  are  much  waited  upon  by  Senators  and  members  of 
the  House  :  I  suppose  you  obtained  their  interest  with  the 
President." 

"  Never  mind,  George,"  replied  the  lady,  "  how  I  man 
age  :  see  to  your  own  concerns." 


SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON.  91 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

IT  was  but  a  short  time  before  this,  that  Burr's  conspir 
acy,  as  it  was  then  called,  had  been  completely  put  down, 
and  a  fair  prospect  presented  itself  that  both  France  and 
Great  Britain  would  cease  to  harass  our  commerce,  and 
violate  our  rights.  The  Government  had  evidently  gained 
strength  by  the  first ;  the  realization  of  the  second  would 
have  confirmed  the  wisdom  of  Mr.  Jefferson's  pacific  poli 
cy  :  but  it  was  not  destined  to  be  so.  The  company  at 
Vanderhorn's  were  all  assembled  in  the  drawing-room, 
when  the  servant  announced  Mr.  Randolph.  This  cele 
brated  man  was  now  in  the  opposition,  and  as  conversation, 
wherever  he  might  be,  necessarily  led  to  politics,  a  long 
discussion  took  place,  in  which  the  Virginian  did  not  fail 
to  give  vent  to  the  ill-humor  which  he  felt  against  the 
administration.  Growing  tired  at  length,  he  withdrew 
from  the  congressional  circle,  which  was  still  discussing 
subjects  bearing  upon  the  future  prospects  and  glory  of  the 
Union,  and  joining  the  ladies,  had  engaged  in  an  animated 
conversation  with  them.  Lucy  had  just  executed  some 
pieces  of  Italian  music,  by  Rossini,  in  elegant  style,  to 
which  he  had  been  listening.  When  she  had  finished, 
"  Thank  you,  Miss  Marchmont,"  he  said,  "  for  your  fine 
execution,  which  is  all,  in  this  kind  of  music,  I  am  able  to 


92  SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON. 

judge  of;  though  passionately  fond  of  simple  melodies, 
which,  accompanied  by  fine  sentiments,  reach  the  heart." 

"  Of  what  nation,  Mr.  Randolph,"  inquired  Clara,  "  is 
your  favorite  music,  and  what  pieces  ?" 

"  The  Scotch,  by  all  means,  Miss  Sydenham,"  he  replied. 
"  None  other  affect  me  so  powerfully  ;  and  of  all  that  I 
have  heard,  the  beautiful  song  of  '  John  Anderson,  my  Jo, 
John,'  is  my  favorite."  He  then  repeated  the  last  verses 
in  his  inimitable  manner. 

"  John  Anderson,  my  Jo,  John, 

Frae  year  to  year  we've  past, 
And  soon  the  year  maun  come,  John, 

Will  bring  us  to  our  last  : 
But  let  na  that  affright  us,  John, 

Our  hearts  were  ne'er  our  foe, 
While  in  innocent  delight  we've  lived, 

John  Anderson,  my  Jo. 

"  John  Anderson,  my  Jo,  John, 

We  clamb  the  hill  thegither, 
And  mony  a  canty  day,  John, 

We've  had  wi'  ane  anither. 
Now  we  maun  totter  down,  John, 

But  hand  in  hand  we'll  go, 
And  we'll  sleep  thegither  at  the  foot, 

John  Anderson,  my  Jo." 

He  then  requested  Clara  to  sing  and  play  it.  She  im 
mediately  took  her  seat  at  the  piano,  and  in  the  execution 
of  the  music,  and  in  her  fine  voice,  did  equal  justice  to  the 
poet  and  the  composer.  She  then  turned  over  the  leaves 
of  her  music-book,  and  played  and  sang  other  pieces  of  a 
similar  character,  while  this  man  of  many  passions  stood  ab- 


SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON.  93 

sorbed  in  the  emotions  which  had  thus  been  aroused  within 
him. 

"  Many  thanks  to  you,  Miss  Sydenham,"  he  said,  when 
Clara  arose  from  her  seat,  "  for  the  pleasure  which  you 
have  given  to  me.  It  is  matter  of  surprise  to  me,  that  any 
other  description  of  music  should  ever  have  superseded 
these  simple  and  artless  appeals  to  the  heart,  for  which,  in 
my  opinion,  the  Scotch  songs  are  unrivalled." 

"  And  yet,  the  professional  man,"  said  Mrs.  Marchmont, 
"  receives  little  gratification  from  simple  melodies,  while 
his  whole  soul  will  seem  to  be  engrossed  by  the  long  and 
complex  pieces  of  Italian  or  German  music." 

"  Very  true,  madam,"  replied  Mr.  Randolph  ;  "  that  is 
the  metaphysics  of  music,  of  which  very  few,  comparatively, 
can  know  anything.  But  simple  music,  with  appropriate 
sentiments,  finds  its  way  to  the  heart  universally,  and 
arouses  up  its  best  feelings,  by  recalling  vividly  to  the  mind 
the  hours  of  our  youth,  when  the  world  had  neither  cheat 
ed  us  by  its  falsehood,  nor  vitiated  us  by  its  maxims.  If  a 
man  never  knew  sentiment  in  youth,  I  doubt  if  he  could 
ever  feel  the  power  of  music  in  more  advanced  life." 

"  You  speak  of  music,  Mr.  Randolph,"  returned  Mrs. 
Marchmont,  "  as  if  it  might  be  useful  even  to  men.  It  has 
generally  been  considered  as  an  accomplishment,  and 
nothing  more,  for  a  lady  to  while  away  an  hour  or  two  in 
amusing  with  sweet  sounds,  some  young  gentleman  who 
was  not  able  to  amuse  her  with  agreeable  conversation." 

"  Yes,  madam,  useful  to  man,  certainly/'  he  replied. 
"  Whatever  tends  to  humanize,  to  soften  him,  is  useful  to 
him  ;  for  in  my  conscience,  I  think  he  is  a  very  hard  sub- 


94  SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON. 

ject.  Fine  music  from  a  fine  woman,  would  have  more 
effect  than  almost  anything  else  that  could  be  brought  to 
bear  upon  his  barbarism.  You  see  how  much  power  I 
attribute  to  the  ladies." 

"  Thanks  for  your  good  opinion,"  said  Mrs.  Marchmont. 
"  But  your  expressions/me — needs  explanation.  What  do 
you  comprehend  in  it,  Mr.  Randolph?" 

**  A  knowledge  of  all  the  duties,  madam,"  he  replied, 
'*  that  belong  to  a  woman  in  her  station  as  a  wife,  mother, 
and  mistress  ;  and  this  knowledge  founded  upon  Chris 
tianity.  That  will  constitute  a  fine  woman  ;  and  all  may 
thus  be  fine  women.  Add  to  it,  if  you  please,  the  adven 
titious  accomplishments  of  music  and  drawing,  provided 
there  be  natural  talents  for  their  acquisition ;  and  the 
French  and  Italian  languages,  if  there  be  a  fondness  for 
extensive  reading.  I  think  this  will  do  ;  for  the  ornamental 
will  then  be  combined  with  what  is  useful.  The  female 
mind  having  thus  resources  of  its  own,  and  the  woman, 
having  her  appropriate  avocations,  will  have  no  wish  to 
seek  what  is  called  pleasure,  out  of  her  own  domestic  circle." 

"  You  have  omitted  dancing,  Mr.  Randolph,  in  your  list 
of  accomplishments,"  said  Mrs.  Stanley. 

"  It  was  designedly  done,  madam,"  he  replied.  "  I  do 
not  consider  it  an  accomplishment  in  a  lady.  The  ease 
of  manners,  which,  it  is  generally  supposed,  is  acquired  by 
a  knowledge  of  dancing,  is  all  artificial,  and  very  different 
from  that  arising  from  a  consciousness  of  innate  propriety. 
The  lady,  whose  manners  are  formed  by  dancing,  is  noted 
for  an  over-sprightliness — a  hop-and-skip  sort  of  motion, 
an  effort  to  attract  attention  ;  while,  also,  the  movements, 


SCENES   AT   WASHINGTON,  95 

changes  of  posture,  motions  of  the  limbs,  and  familiarities 
sanctioned  by  the  figures  of  the  dance,  have  no  very  favor 
able  tendency,  in  my  opinion,  to  preserve  the  maidenly 
diffidence  which  so  greatly  enhances  the  charms  of  female 
loveliness.  In  a  word,  I  detest  it ;  nor  can  I  see  it,  but  in 
my  imagination,  I  see  the  dancing  girls  of  the  East." 

"  This  is  very  severe,  Mr.  Randolph,"  said  Mrs.  Stanley. 

"  But  it  is  just,  madam,"  he  replied.  "  The  welfare  of 
society  rests  upon  female  influence  in  a  far  greater  degree 
than  is  generally  supposed  ;  and  female  education,  in  every 
way,  should  be  of  such  firm  texture,  that  it  cannot  be  torn, 
or  worn  out.  No  tinsel  for  women's  minds.  This  is  my 
opinion  ;  for  it  is  unquestionable,  that  the  first  principles 
of  good  or  of  evil  are  ingrafted  into  the  young  heart  by 
maternal  instruction,  or  suffered  to  grow  up  there  by  ma 
ternal  neglect.  I  perfectly  remember  my  own  mother, 
when  she  called  me  to  her,  and  explaining  to  me,  in  lan 
guage  suited  to  my  age,  my  relation  to  the  Supreme  Being 
as  my  Creator  and  Father,  made  me  kneel  and  place  my 
little  hands  together,  while  she  taught  me  the  comprehen 
sive  prayer  which  our  Lord  gave  for  the  instruction  of 
mankind.  This  was  the  first  lesson,  followed  up  by  others, 
as  I  grew  older  ;  and  the  impressions,  thus  made,  nothing, 
as  yet,  has  effaced.  No  :  I  do  not  estimate  too  highly,  the 
influence  of  woman  upon  society ;  nor  am  I  too  severe 
upon  any  sort  of  education  which  might  tend  to  lessen 
their  favorable  influence  upon  morals,  by  substituting  what 
are  called  accomplishments,  in  place  of  real  virtues." 

Mrs.  Stanley  was  now  quite  willing  to  escape  from  this 
severe  censor,  and  changed  the  subject  by  remarking, 


96  SCENES   AT   WASHINGTON. 

"  That  neither  music  nor  painting  had  yet  produced  any 
thing  amongst  us,  which  gave  promise  that  we  should  hand 
down  to  posterity,  through  them,  the  events  of  the  war  of 
our  Independence." 

"  Very  little,  as  yet,  madam,"  replied  Mr.  Randolph. 
'*  What  Trumbull  has  produced  in  historical  painting  is  of 
a  very  mediocre  description,  and  his  pencil  is  all  we  have, 
in  that  line.  In  music,  we  have  two  marches,  and  Yankee 
Doodle  ;  and  I  believe  that  is  all.  But  the  fine  arts  will 
certainly  flourish  here,  in  one  generation  more ;  for  it  is 
necessary  that  the  events,  or  persons  intended  to  be  com 
memorated  by  historical  painting,  or  by  music,  should  be 
shrouded  over  by  some  antiquity,  at  least.  Our  revolu 
tionary  war  will  present  a  vast  field  for  future  historians, 
novelists,  painters,  poets,  and  musicians,  and  the  national 
genius  appear  in  a  light  to  gratify  our  highest  ambition." 

Rising  from  his  seat  as  he  was  speaking,  he  bowed  to 
the  ladies,  and  was  going  to  the  door,  when  he  espied 
Charles  Leslie,  who  had  been  some  time  in  the  room,  in 
conversation  with  Mr.  Marchmont.  He  immediately 
turned  and  went  to  him.  Charles  had  been  introduced  to 
Mr.  Randolph  by  Captain  Decatur,  and  was  greatly  struck 
with  his  new  acquaintance.  The  perfect  ease  of  his  man 
ners,  his  power  of  putting  others  at  ease  in  his  company, 
his  varied  conversation,  suited  to  the  highest  capacity,  or 
adapting  itself  to  the  lowest,  was  as  novel  to  Charles  as  it 
was  interesting.  He  had  never,  he  thought,  seen  a  man  to 
compare  to  him  in  manners  or  conversation.  After  talking 
a  few  moments  longer  with  Charles,  he  left  the  room,  de 
clining  Mr.  Marchmont's  invitation  to  supper,  as  he  had, 


SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON.  97 

he  said,  "  some  arguments  to  arrange  for  his  speech  the 
next  morning  ;"  for  which,  by  the  rules  of  the  House,  he 
had  the  floor. 

Clara  had  noticed  what  was  passing,  and  had  observed 
the  estimation  in  which  gentlemen  of  high  distinction  ap 
peared  to  hold  her  first  admirer.  With  Mr.  Marchmont 
she  knew  that  he  was  a  favorite,  and  she  had  just  seen 
that  Mr.  Randolph  had  honored  him  with  his  attention. 
Although  she  had  been  flattered,  and  her  pride  gratified  by 
Mr.  Hollis's  assiduities,  which  were  daily  more  and  more 
plain,  they  had  not  effaced  the  feelings  of  preference  which 
Charles  Leslie  had  once  excited.  She  was  continually 
comparing  him  in  her  mind,  with  her  new  suitor,  and  the 
balance  would  at  once  have  preponderated  in  his  favor, 
but  for  his  religious  opinions.-  She  had  determined  for 
some  days  past,  to  put  his  principles  to  the  test,  by  asking 
him  to  go  to  the  Assembly.  "  Perhaps,"  she  said  to  her 
self,  "  the  society  at  Washington  may  have  made  him  less 
rigid  in  his  notions  :  I  wish  I  had  an  opportunity  to  talk 
with  him.  If  he  consents  to  go,  I  am  decided." 

Charles,  on  his  part,  sought  a  conversation  with  her 
more  anxiously  than  she  did  with  him.  He  had  observed 
Mr.  Hollis's  attentions  to  her  with  extreme  apprehension, 
and  was  very  desirous  of  knowing,  if  he  could,  how  far 
they  were  well-founded.  But  this  was  no  easy  matter, 
for  his  rival  was  constantly  near  her,  and  engrossing  her 
attention  in  every  way  he  could.  Charles  had  been  on  the 
watch,  for  some  time,  for  a  vacant  seat  near  her,  but  to  no 
purpose.  If  one  seat  was  empty,  Mr.  Hollis,  as  if  deter 
mined  to  prevent  a  conversation,  obstinately  kept  his  posi- 


98  SCENES   AT   WASHINGTON. 

tion.  "  Lucy,"  whispered  Clara  to  her,  "  you  know  that  I 
have  two  admirers  in  the  room  :  I  wish  to  have  some  con 
versation  with  one  whom  I  see  a  little  way  off,  and  I  wish 
you  to  amuse  the  other  who  is  close  by,  while  I  do  so. 
Do,  pray,  help  me  in  my  difficulty ;  and  if  ever  you  get  in 
the  like,  let  me  know,  and  I  will  do  you  the  same  good 
turn." 

"  I  am  not  so  well  off  as  you  are,  Clara,"  replied  Lucy, 
laughing,  "  as  to  have  two  to  manage  :  in  fact,  I  have  quite 
enough  to  do  to  manage  Mr.  Campbell,  whom,  you  know, 
my  good  father  is  willing  to  receive  as  his  son-in-law. 
But  as  he  is  not  here  to-night,  I  will  do  all  in  my  power  to 
assist  you." 

She  remained  quiet  for  a  little  while,  and  then  requested 
Mr.  Hollis  to  explain  to  her  some  historical  prints,  a  large 
volume  of  which  lay  on  a  table  on  the  other  side  of  the 
room.  They  accordingly  went  off  together,  and  Charles 
soon  occupied  Lucy's  chair. 

"  I  wished  to  see  you,  Mr.  Charles  Leslie,"  said  Clara, 
in  her  best  manner.  "  I  have  a  request  to  make  of  you. 
Will  you  grant  it  ?" 

"  I  don't  know  :  I  must  first  be  informed  what  it  is." 

"Do  you  think  I  would  make  an  improper  one?"  she 
asked. 

"  You  would  not,  if  you  were  at  home,"  Charles  replied. 
"  I  cannot  answer  for  what  Washington  may  have  already 
done  with  you." 

"  Your  confidence  in  me  then  is  lowered  :  is  it  so  ?" 

"  Waive  all  that  at  present,"  Charles  replied,  "  and  let  me 
know  your  wishes." 


SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON.  99 

"  The  Assembly  takes  place,"  she  said,  "  the  day  after 
to-morrow,  and  it  is  the  the  first  at  which  Agnes  and  my 
self  will  have  been  since  our  arrival  in  the  city.  I  feel 
nervous  already  at  the  thoughts  of  it.  An  old  acquaintance 
like  you,  would  assist  much  towards  removing  the  embar 
rassment  which  we  expect  to  feel  upon  such  a  novel  oc 
casion.  We  have  been,  Charles,  at  many  a  ball  together 
during  our  Jong  acquaintance,  and  I  request  you  will  be  at 
this.  Will  you  go  with  us  ?  Now,  don't  refuse ;  I  am 
really  anxious  for  it." 

Charles,  affecting  a  very  demure  manner,  told  her  "  he 
was  too  old." 

"  Do  answer  me,"  she  said  ;  "  will  you  go  with  us  ?" 

Charles  still  continued  his  manner,  with  some  dash  of 
badinage.  "  I  have  not  time,  Clara,"  said  he,  "  to  fix  upon 
my  dress  for  such  a  brilliant  occasion.  My  silk  inner  vests, 
and  red  cuffs,  which  made  us  cut  so  fine  a  figure  when  I 
was  a  young  man,  are  all  gone ;  and  now  I  think  of  it,  I 
do  not  believe  that  I  have  a  single  pair  of  silk  stockings 
left.  And  as  to  another  part  of  my  wardrobe,  verily,  they 
too  have  disappeared  before  the  new  fashion.  Why  did 
you  not  ask  me  two  weeks  since  ?" 

"  Charles,  this  is  not  politeness,"  said  Clara.  "  I  am  se 
rious  in  my  request,  and  again  ask  you  to  answer  me  se 
riously." 

He  instantly  resumed  his  usual  manner — "  I  shall  always 
believe  whatever  you  say,  Clara,  and  now,  that  I  see  that 
you  are  serious  in  your  request,  answer,  by  expressing  my 
regret,  that  you  are  so.  We  have  known  one  another  for 
a  long  while,  and  I  had  hoped  that,  by  this  time,  you  had 


100  SCENES   AT   WASHINGTON. 

known  me  well  enough  to  be  satisfied,  that  if  I  saw  proper 
to  govern  my  conduct  by  religious  principles,  I  could  not 
be  made  to  change  such  determination  by  any  one.  I  am 
really  sorry  to  find  that  I  am  lowered  in  your  opinion." 

"  You  have  no  right,"  Clara  replied,  "  to  put  such  a  con 
struction  upon  my  request,  because  I  do  not  see  the  force 
of  your  motives — principles — if  you  will  have  it  so." 

"  It  would  be  unreasonable  in  me,  perhaps,  to  expect  that 
you  should,  young  as  you  are,  flattered  as  you  are,  sought 
after,  as  I  believe  you  are.  I  make  every  allowance  for 
your  position,  but  it  is  not  the  less  evident,  that  the  dissipa 
tion  of  Washington  has  had  an  unfavorable  influence  upon 
your  mind  already,  and  may  have  upon  your  character 
hereafter.  Now,  restrain,"  he  added,  "  the  tokens  of  resent 
ment  which  your  face  has  indicated  in  one  moment.  I 
must,  and  will  be  honest  with  you." 

"  And  as  harsh  and  unkind  at  Washington,  as  at  home." 

"  If  you  will  think  so,  you  must ;  but  let  me  appeal  to 
your  own  heart.  You  are  going  to  the  Assembly  in  pur 
suit  of  pleasure.  Would  it  not  give  you  greater,  to  go 
and  relieve  the  necessities  of  the  poor  widow  and  her  two 
grand-daughters,  of  whose  destitute  condition  I  was  telling 
you  and  Miss  Marchmont,  the  last  evening  I  saw  you  ? 
The  cost  of  the  ornaments  which  you  will  wear  at  the 
Assembly,  so  unnecessarily,  would  do  this  for  the  whole 
winter.  I  appeal  to  your  own  heart  to  say,  which  would 
afford  the  highest  pleasure." 

"  Charles,  Charles,  this  is  not  fair." 

"  But  it  is  fair,"  he  replied,  "  thus  to  contrast  as  strikingly 
as  possible,  the  woman  of  real  virtue,  with  the  mere  woman 


SCENES  AT  WASHINGTON.  101 

of  pleasure.  I  appeal  too,  to  your  understanding.  You 
ask  me  to  do  what  you  know  I  should  consider  as  a  depart 
ure  from  my  religious  principles.  Were  I  so  weak  as  to 
give  way,  you  yourself  would  be  among  the  first  to  con 
demn  me,  and  if  you  ever  respected  me,  you  would  do  so 
no  longer.  I  appeal  to  yourself  upon  this  question." 

"  It  is  not  the  question  just  now,"  said  Clara,  "  as  to 
what  I  might  think  or  say.  Do  you  mean  to  throw  your 
self  out  of  the  society  in  which  you  have  always  hereto 
fore  moved  ?  You  will  lose  caste  utterly,  in  persisting  in 
your  present  course  of  life." 

"  I  have  not  the  least  apprehension,"  he  replied,  "  of 
losing  caste  with  that  part  of  society  which  is  certainly  the 
most  estimable.  My  religious  principles  are  well  known, 
for  I  never  deny  them,  and  still,  I  number  among  my 
friends,  men  of  high  distinction,  and  ladies  of  great  worth 
and  standing  in  society.  My  principles  have  already  added 
immensely  to  my  happiness,  and  by  enabling  me  to  keep  a 
steadier  course,  promise  even  to  advance  my  temporal  in 
terests." 

"  I  find  it  no  easy  matter  to  understand  you  to-night," 
said  Clara :  "  I  ask  you  to  go  to  the  Assembly,  and  you 
give  me  for  answer,  '  That  if  you  did,  I  would  not  respect 
you.'  This  is  to  make  me  act  very  inconsistently,  at  best." 

"  Your  request,"  replied  Charles,  "  is  dictated  merely  by 
the  excitement  of  the  moment.  Your  opinion  the  next 
day,  would  be  the  result  of  your  judgment.  I  am  not  yet 
afraid  to  appeal  to  it,  but  how  long  it  will  be,  I  know  not. 
Washington  is  a  place  where  excitement  is  constantly  in 
operation  in  the  fashionable  world,  as  well  as  in  the  politi- 


102  SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON. 

cal.  You  will  not  get  out  of  it  as  unsophisticated  as  you 
came  into  it." 

"  I  may  be  wiser,  however,"  she  replied  with  emphasis. 

"  Little  is  to  be  gained  by  that,"  Charles  replied,  "  if  it 
be  at  the  expense  of  artlessness." 

"  Charles,"  said  Clara,  "  all  this  may  be  very  well  at  a 
more  advanced  period  of  life,  but  what  has  it  all  to  do 
with  such  young  persons  as  we  are  ?  I  wish  to  spend  a 
few  hours  agreeably,  and  ask  you  to  go  with  us,  and  the 
answer  is,  a  long  lecture  on  morality.  Have  you  sent  your 
wits  into  the  moon  ?" 

"  Higher  still,  I  trust,"  he  replied.  '*  I  cannot  go  to  the 
Assembly.  Nay,  why  draw  yourself  up  to  such  a  height  ? 
And  that  toss  of  your  head  !  And  now,  that  look !  In 
deed,  I  am  about  to  lose  caste  with  Miss  Sydenham,  I  see, 
if  not  with  others." 

"  Perhaps  so,  at  least,"  said  Clara,  "  if  you  cannot  have 
your  own  notions,  without  censuring  my  behavior." 

"  You  have  only  then  to  say  so,  with  candor,"  replied 
Charles,  "  and  it  shall  be  so.  Such  an  interruption  to  a 
long  acquaintance,  much  of  which  will  ever  be  pleasant  in 
my  remembrance,  go  as  the  world  may  with  me,  must 
needs  be  painful,  and  the  more  so,  in  finding  that  Clara 
Sydenham  at  Washington,  was  not  what  I  had  known  her 
to  be  elsewhere.  But  do  you  see  those  looks  this  way,"  he 
continued,  directing  her  attention  towards  Lucy  and  Mr. 
Hollis,  "  your  gallant, — admirer, — what  do  you  call  him  ? 
seems  to  think  that  I  am  out  of  my  place,  and  that  you 
might  be  more  agreeably  occupied.  I  will  not  tax  your 
patience,  Clara,  and  you  will  soon  have  him  near  you. 


SCENES   AT   WASHINGTON.  103 

Now,  open  both  your  ears,  and  take  all  the  flattery  that  will 
be  poured  into  them  :  believe  that  you  are  perfect — that 
you  are  irresistible  :  believe  it  all,  for  you  will  hear  it  in 
fine  language,  and  from  a  member  of  Congress.  But  when 
you  hear  it  all,  remember  this,  that  you  are  rapidly  ap 
proaching  a  point  in  your  moral  probation  that  may  decide 
your  fate.  Beware,  how  you  put  your  happiness  in  the 
power  of  an  Infidel.  Good  night." 

Charles  then  strode  across  the  room  to  where  Mr.  Syd- 
enham  and  Mr.  Marchmont  were  standing,  and  after  a 
few  moments'  conversation  with  them,  Clara  saw  the  door 
close  upon  the  tall  figure  of  her  inflexible,  but  true  lover. 
Charles  understood  her  character  well,  and  knew  how  to 
apply  his  remarks  so  as  to  bear  strongly  both  upon  her  feel 
ings  and  her  judgment.  In  this  way  only,  he  was  deter 
mined  to  win  her,  if  to  win  her  were  possible.  His  own 
feelings,  impetuous  at  times,  might,  he  was  aware,  occasion 
ally  lead  him  too  far  in  what  he  might  say  ;  but  even  in  this 
he  might  think  it  probable,  that  such  exhibition  of  the  inter 
est  he  took  in  whatever  concerned  her,  might  not  be  with 
out  its  effect,  in  increasing  hers  for  him.  Clara,  on  her 
part,  was  gratified  alike  by  his  appeal  to  her  judgment,  as 
to  her  heart ;  but  pride,  the  great  fault  in  her  character, 
was  constantly  at  war  with  her  better  principles.  "  I  am 
refused  then,"  she  thought,  as  the  door  closed  upon  Charles, 
"  in  so  trifling  a  matter,  and  that  too,  though  I  pressed  my 
request  upon  him.  Very  well,  Mr.  Charles  Leslie,  it  shall 
be  one  while  before  I  put  it  in  your  power  to  do  it  again." 
But  the  monitor  within  was  still  awake,  and  busy  with  her. 
"  Yes,  it  is  so,"  again  she  thought ;  "  he  has  a  right  to 


104  SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON. 

the  exercise  of  his  own  principles,  as  much  as  I  have  to 
form  my  own  wishes  ;  and  if  he  had  given  them  up  merely 
to  please  me,  I  should  not  have  respected  him  as  much  the 
next  morning  as  I  did  the  evening  before.  But  he  warns 
me  about  putting  my  happiness  in  the  power  of  an  Infidel. 
Then  he  is  jealous  of  Mr.  Hollis,  and  perhaps  if  I  excite  his 
fears,  I  may  make  him  more  compliant  in  future.  No — 
that  will  not  do.  I  know  him  too  well  to  expect  it.  He 
will  never  come  back  to  his  former  habits  and  amusements, 
but  hopes  to  bring  me  to  his  habits  and  his  sources  of  hap 
piness  ;  and  that  I  cannot  do.  Then  I  approach,  he  says, 
a  point  in  my  .moral  probation  which  may  decide  my  fate ! 
What  a  strange  effect  his  words  always  have  upon  me  !" 
Thus  undecided,  the  war  of  the  judgment  and  the  passions 
still  raging,  she  could  fix  upon  nothing  determinate,  but  left 
it  to  events,  as  they  might  arise,  to  decide,  whether  her 
pride  or  her  better  principles  should  finally  triumph. 

For  some  time  after  Mr.  Hollis  had  opened  the  prints, 
his  attention  in  explaining  them  to  Lucy,  was  fixed  upon 
the  subjects  as  they  appeared  in  turning  over  the  leaves. 
But  after  awhile,  portraits  of  distinguished  characters  were 
seen,  and  amongst  them,  that  of  the  celebrated  Mary, 
Queen  of  Scots.  Miss  Marchmont  was  immediately  struck 
with  the  likeness  in  the  contour  of  the  face  to  Clara's,  and 
calling  Mr.  Hollis?s  attention  to  it,  both  of  them  looked  at 
Clara  to  make  the  comparison.  He  then  observed  the 
close  and  earnest  conversation  in  which  she  was  engaged 
with  Charles  Leslie.  The  explanations  of  the  prints  in 
stantly  became  vapid,  the  leaves  were  turned  over  rapidly, 
and  Mr.  Hollis  gave  plain  demonstrations  to  Lucy,  that  he 


SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON.  105 

wished  to  be  released.  Lucy,  seeing  that  she  had  given 
Clara  all  the  time  that  could  be  gained,  and  not  wishing, 
by  pressing  him  to  continue,  to  be  suspected  of  the  trick 
which  she  had  so  successfully  executed,  rose  up  from  the 
table.  Mr.  Hollis  soon  re-occupied  his  place  near  Clara. 

"  What  have  you  done  with  the  young  Puritan,  Miss 
Sydenham  ?"  he  inquired  of  Clara.  li  Has  he  been  paying 
his  devoirs  to  you  out  of  the  Lamentations  ?" 

But  Clara  was  not  yet  prepared  to  discard  her  old,  for 
her  new  admirer.  Whatever  effect  Mr.  Hollis's  attentions 
might  have  produced,  it  was  not  sufficient  to  cause  any  in 
dication  on  her  part,  that  he  was  to  reign,  at  once,  in  a 
heart  which  had  been,  in  some  degree  at  least,  once  occu 
pied  by  his  rival.  Her  confidence  in  Charles  Leslie  was 
still  undiminished,  and  the  estimation  in  which  she  plainly 
saw  that  he  was  held  by  gentlemen  of  high  standing,  as  a 
promising  young  man,  as  yet,  counterbalanced  the  weight 
which  Mr.  Hollis  possessed  from  his  political  position  only. 
Neither  in  person,  manners,  nor  acquired  knowledge,  did 
she  consider  him  as  superior  to  Charles.  She  accord 
ingly  replied  in  a  careless  manner,  that  "  she  believed  he 
had  left  the  room,  and  that  she  did  not  know  of  any  cause 
for  the  lamentations  referred  to." 

"  Perhaps,  then,"  said  Mr.  Hollis,  "  I  ought  to  have  made 
use  of  a  term  exactly  the  reverse.  Miss  Marchmont  and 
myself  were  comparing  the  face  of  the  Queen  of  Scots 
with  your  own,  and  this  caused  me  to  observe  the  close,  I 
may  say,  the  impassioned  conversation  which  was  going 
on  between  you." 

"  Mr.  Leslie,"  replied  Clara,  "  has  his  own  opinions,  and 


106  SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON. 

his  own  peculiar  mode  of  expressing  them ;  serious,  or 
lively,  and  sometimes  animated.  At  times,  I  differ  with 
him :  and  this  directly  leads  him  to  a  manner  which  you 
call  impassioned." 

"  And  I  suppose,"  said  Mr.  Hollis,  "  he  never  fails  to 
make  his  remarks  hinge  upon  his  religious  notions.  I  have 
met  with  some  persons  in  my  life  who  held  the  same,  but 
none  so  young,  nor  more  rigid.  They  are  perfectly  ridic 
ulous,  and  suitable  only  to  times  of  ignorance,  when  men 
surrendered  the  mind  to  the  domination  of  the  clergy,  but 
are  childish  in  this  '  Age  of  Reason.'  " 

Whoever  has  closely  observed  the  world,  will  have  seen 
a  strange  fatuity  in  men  when  absorbed  in  some  one  sub 
ject,  in  obtruding  their  views  of  it  upon  every  occasion, 
without  considering  what  bearing  their  doing  so  might  have 
upon  their  own  interest  or  wishes.  One  moment's  reflec 
tion  might  have  led  Mr.  Hollis  to  perceive,  that  the  open 
and  uncalled-for  profession  of  his  infidel  opinions,  was  in 
nowise  necessary  to  advance  his  suit  with  Clara,  but  most 
probably,  might  even  be  injurious.  But  led  away  by  the 
prevalent  influence  of  an  hatred  of  Christianity  then  oper 
ating  powerfully  throughout  our  country,  he  was  contin 
ually  striving  upon  every  occasion,  to  throw  contempt,  as 
well  upon  Christianity  itself,  as  ridicule  upon  those  who 
professed  it. 

"  I  am  not  so  fully  acquainted  with  this  great  subject, 
Mr.  Hollis,"  replied  Clara,  "  as  to  venture  a  dispute  res 
pecting  it.  I  have  been  brought  up  to  respect  and  believe 
in  the  Scriptures,  as  the  only  sure  guide  to  happiness  in 
this  world  and  the  next ;  and  I  think  it  is  fair  to  say,  that 


SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON.  107 


in  arguing  this  question,  ridicule  is  a  poor  test  of  its  truth. 
As  to  Mr.  Leslie,  you  or  others  have  your  own  right  to 
consider  him  as  you  may  see  fit,  though  I  believe  it  will  be 
a  matter  of  very  little  moment  to  him." 

Here  shone  forth  brightly  the  fine  traits  in  Clara's  char 
acter.  What  she  was  well  satisfied  of,  she  had  no  hesita 
tion  in  acknowledging ;  nor  could  she  sit  by  quietly,  and 
hear  Charles  Leslie  stigmatized  as  ridiculous,  even  though 
it  might  have  been  dictated  by  jealousy.  As  usual  with  her, 
whenever  her  feelings  were  at  all  touched,  her  face  as  well 
as  voice  indicated  what  was  passing  in  her  mind.  Mr. 
Hollis  saw  his  mistake  in  a  moment,  and  hastened  to  re 
cover  his  ground  by  throwing  her  thoughts  as  rapidly  as 
he  could  in  another  direction. 

"  You  are  right,  Miss  Sydenham,  undoubtedly,"  said  he ; 
"  ridicule  is  a  poor  test  of  truth,  and  we  will  dismiss  such 
grave  subjects  as  Christianity  and  Mr.  Charles  Leslie.  But 
indeed,"  he  continued,' deter  mined  to  give  Charles  a  parting 
blow,  "  I  can  never  look  upon  this  solemn  young  gentle 
man,  but  my  mind  is  carried  back  irresistibly  to  the  times 
•of  the  Roundheads  in  England,  from  whom  he  seems  to 
)iave  gathered  up  his  notions  as  well  upon  government  as 
religion.  You  will  be  at  the  Assembly  this  week,  I  hope  ?" 

Clara  smiled  at  this  sally,  which  she  well  understood  as 
arising  from  the  mortification  which  Mr.  Hollis  had  felt  in 
his  late  dispute  with  Charles ;  but  without  replying  to  it, 
left  it  with  himself  to  consider  her,  if  he  saw  proper,  as 
amused  at  his  satire.  She  barely  answered  by  saying,  that 
she  intended  to  be  at  the  Assembly,  and  that  so  did  Lucy 
and  Agnes." 


108  SCENES    AT   WASHINGTON. 

"  It  is  a  charming  amusement  in  my  opinion,"  said  he. 
"  The  exhilaration  of  spirits  produced  by  the  music — -the 
elegance  of  manners,  we  see,  set  off  by  all  the  embellish 
ments  of  dress — rthe  universal  disposition  evinced  to  please 
—present  a  scene  which  I  greatly  admire  and  approve  of. 
I  hardly  know  how  a  few  hours  could  be  passed  more 
pleasantly." 

Clara,  while  he  was  speaking,  was  contrasting  his  opin 
ions  on  this  subject,  with  those  of  Charles  Leslie.  Nothing 
could  be  more  opposite.  She  readily  detected  the  light 
ness  of  the  reasons  which  had  been  advanced  for  his  ap 
probation  of  this  kind  of  amusement,  and  well  knew,  that 
disappointment  and  mortification  were  as  often  experienced 
at  it,  as  pleasure.  Still  Mr.  Hollis's  remarks  were  in  unison 
with  the  feelings  of  youth,  and  with  her  love  of  novelty  and 
excitement ;  and  the  cloud  which  had  gathered  upon  her 
brow  for  one  moment  had  passed  away  in  another.  Her 
manner  instantly  became  that  of  the  lady,  ready  to  meet 
with  ease  and  propriety,  the  attentions  of  any  one  entitled 
to  the  character  of  a  gentleman,  though  she  was  still  held 
in  check  by  her  judgment,  in  concurring  fully  with  Mr. 
Hollis's  high  commendation. 

"  The  Assemblies  are  very  exciting  certainly,"  she  re 
plied,  "  but  upon  the  whole,  not  so  much  so,  I  think,  as  the 
Theatre.  The  scenes  and  sentiments  in  theatrical  repre 
sentations  leave  more  lasting  impressions,  and  if  tender,  or 
even  terrific,  as  in  deep  tragedy,  give  more  to  think  of  af 
terwards,  than  all  that  passes  at  an  Assembly." 

"  Perhaps  not  always,  Miss  Sydenham,"  said  Mr.  Hollis. 
"  Many  an  offer  of  a  gentleman's  hand,  (I  do  not  mean  for 


SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON.  109 

a  dance  only,)  has  been  made  at  the  Assembly ;  and  this 
would  give  a  lady  something  to  think  of  afterwards,  more 
interesting  to  herself  personally,  than  anything  could  be  in 
the  best  of  Shakspeare's  plays." 

"  An  offer  of  the  hand,  Mr.  Hollis  !"  said  Clara. 

"  Ah  !  Miss  Sydenham,"  he  replied,  "  that  includes  every 
thing  a  gentleman  has  to  offer.  I  hope  you  do  not  suppose 
it  possible  we  could  be  so  base  as  to  mean  less  than  this." 

"  I  have  had  very  few  thoughts,  sir,  upon  the  subject." 

"  Pardon  me,"  he  replied,  "  but  I  had  supposed  the  gal 
lant  captain  had  compelled  from  you  already  some  thoughts 
upon  this  subject." 

"  Oh !"  said  Clara  gayly,  and  laughing,  "  you  have  en 
tirely  mistaken  the  object  of  the  captain's  aspirations. 
Lucy  must  answer  to  that." 

"  I  am  happy  to  find  myself  mistaken,  Miss  Sydenham," 
replied  Mr.  Hollis. 

He  was  here  upon  the  point  of  pressing  the  same  ques 
tion  as  to  Charles  Leslie  ;  but  having  been  so  lately  com 
pelled  to  quit  that  ground,  he  knew  not  how  to  seize  upon 
it  again.  It  might,  too,  have  carried  him  too  far.  He  was 
not  yet  prepared  to  offer  himself,  as  he  had  received  no 
evidence  on  Clara's  part  that  she  was  ready  to  accept  him 
if  he  did.  Determined  to  make  his  approaches  with  all  the 
skill  he  was  master  of,  he  contented  himself  for  the  present, 
with  this  indirect  avowal  of  his  sentiments,  and  then  chang 
ing  the  subject,  did  his  best  to  amuse  Clara  by  descrip 
tions  of  the  society  at  Washington,  particularly  of  some 
distinguished  ladies  from  his  own  state,  with  whom  he  was 
intimate.  At  times,  he  contrived  to  throw  in  some  well- 


110  SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON. 

turned  compliment  to  the  fair  girl ;  and  yet  would  do  so  in 
a  manner  to  which  the  most  fastidious  delicacy  could  not 
object.  It  would  be  absurd  to  say,  that  his  address  and 
management  were  all  lost  upon  Clara.  She  saw  that  her 
company  was  sought  after  by  a  man  of  standing  in  what 
was  called  high  life  ;  she  wras  sensible  of  his  powers  of 
conversation  whenever  he  pleased  to  exert  them,  and  flat 
tered  by  the  compliments  which  he  had  so  dexterously  ap 
plied  to  her  vanity.  The  poison  had  been  imbibed,  and 
time  was  to  show  what  consequences  were  to  follow.  At 
the  moment  it  was  plain,  that  her  unbending  first  lover  had 
lost  ground  to  his  dexterous  and  cunning  rival ;  and  such  is 
still  the  course  of  things  at  Washington,  where  flattery  still 
operates  in  this  generation,  as  it  did  in  the  last,  and  will  in 
the  next — where  compliments  are  substituted  for  sincerity 
— where  the  unsophisticated  girl  is  taught  all  the  arts  of 
attracting  admiration — and  barters  her  once  pure  and  still 
young  heart,  for  wealth,  and  the  gratification  of  her  vanity, 
in  a  connection  with  a  man  known  only  for  his  political 
standing,  or  for  his  money. 

The  company  was  now  retiring  rapidly,  and  Clara,  ris 
ing  from  her  seat,  wished  Mr.  Hollis  a  good  night,  with  a 
smile,  which  few,  upon  whom  such  were  directed,  could 
meet  with  indifference.  He  returned  it  with  much  gal 
lantry,  and  felt  no  small  share  of  complacency  at  the  suc 
cess  which  he  saw  he  had  just  obtained  in  his  endeavors  to 
please  her. 

Charles  Leslie  had  reached,  an  hour  before,  his  own  -soli 
tary  room,  and  was  thinking  intently  upon  his  conversation 
with  Clara,  and  deeply  regretting  to  find  the  effect  which  the 


SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON.  Ill 

company  at  Washington  was  making  upon  her  character. 
A  few  weeks  only  had  been  sufficient  to  change,  as  he 
thought,  the  diffident,  retiring  girl,  shrinking  even  from  the 
gaze  of  admiration  which  her  personal  advantages  rarely 
failed  to  excite,  into  the  mere  woman  of  fashion  and  of  the 
world  ;  seeking  universal  attention,  and  often  playing  with 
the  feelings  which  she  endeavored  to  arouse.  '•  True,"  he 
thought,  "  this  might  be  an  harsh  judgment ;  but  still  he 
feared  it  was  just."  Then  again,  he  felt  irritated  that  she 
could  have  thought  so  meanly  of  him,  as  to  think  that  he 
would  give  up  his  principles  to  her  wishes.  "  But  go  on," 
he  said,  giving  vent  to  his  feelings  in  words, — "  go  on,  and 
meet  your  fate,  if  you  will  have  it  so.  Suffer  under  it.  I 
must,  I  know — and  suffer  under  it,  I  will,  sooner  than 
abandon  a  hope  which  even  now  is  more  precious  than  all 
this  world  can  give.  Beloved  as  lovely,  may  you  yet 
escape  the  snares  in  your  path,  and  know  this  hope  as 
I  do." 


112  SCENES  AT  WASHINGTON. 


CHAPTER    IX. 

GOOD  morning.  Captain  Jackson,"  said  Mr.  Levis,  as  the 
captain  took  his  seat  at  the  breakfast-table.  "  But  what  is 
the  matter  with  you  ?  Your  countenance  betokens  as 
much  chagrin  as  if  the  Spaniards  had  routed  your  com 
pany." 

The  captain  returned  the  salutation,  and  then  told  Mr. 
Levis,  that  "  he  was  ordered  to  join  his  regiment,  and  that 
it  greatly  interfered  with  matters  of  much  moment  to  him/' 

<(i  Why  not  then,"  said  Levis,  "  so  inform  the  Secretary 
of  War.  Upon  your  specifying  to  him  what  these  matters 
of  moment  are,  it  is  very  probable  that  he  will  give  you  such 
time  as  you  may  require  to  complete  them."  Levis  made 
this  remark  with  a  twinkle  of  his  gray  eyes,  and  a  twist  of 
his  mouth,  perfectly  intelligible  to  the  gentlemen  of  the 
mess,  with  the  most  of  whom  he  had  been  long  intimate. 

"  These  specifications,  sir,"  replied  the  captain,  "  are 
always  used  on  trials  by  courts-martial,  and  are  useful 
enough,  it  is  true,  to  the  government,  but  sometimes  very 
hard  to  be  answered  by  the  officer.  Much  as  I  wish  to 
have  a  month  at  Washington,  I  cannot  go  into  a  specifica 
tion  of  my  reasons  to  the  war  department,  in  order  to  ob 
tain  that  much  time." 

"  Try  it,"  said  Levis,  who  suspected  the  captain's  rea- 


SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON.  113 

sons,  and  wished  to  make  him  speak  out.  "  There  is  no 
telling  what  may  be  done  by  a  fair  representation  showing 
matters  of  much  moment  to  you.  We  are  not  at  war  yet, 
and  if  you  see  the  secretary,  you  may  succeed  better  than 
you  fear." 

"  It  is  too  late.  My  flank  is  turned  already,  and  if  I  risk 
another  moment,  I  may  be  defeated  totally.  I  have  an 
order  now  on  my  table  to  set  off  within  a  week." 

"  A  week  !"  said  Levis.  "  A  great  deal  of  business  may 
be  done  in  a  week,  captain  !  Can  I  help  you  ?  If  so,  let 
me  know  how." 

"  Thank  you,"  replied  the  captain ;  "  I  believe  I  can 
work  best  by  myself  in  the  case,  and  do  not  need  help 
from  any  quarter.  I  only  want  time  to  make  opportuni 
ties,  and  twenty-four  hours  only  afterwards.  It  is  ill  luck 
indeed,  for  I  have  had  but  one  week's  notice  to  be  off,  and 
this  is  the  second  day  of  that." 

"  You  have  only  to  work  the  harder  then,  for  the  time 
you  have  left,"  said  Levis. 

"  That  will  be  done  in  making  my  opportunities,"  replied 
he;  "and  the  Assembly  to-morrow  night  may  be  enough." 

"  Ah  !"  said  Levis,  "  now  I  understand  you.  A  lady  on 
Capitol  Hill  holds  the  decision  of  this  matter  of  moment  to 
you,  in  her  own  hands.  You  are  too  sanguine  still,  I  think. 
Both  the  ladies  have  many  admirers  ;  and  I  am  disposed  to 
believe,  that  a  young  friend  of  mine  will  be  too  much  for 
you,  to  say  nothing  of  one  senator,  and  two  members  of 
the  House  to  each ;  and  if  that  does  not  dishearten  you  en 
tirely,  consider  me  also  as  in  the  field  against  you." 

"  You  have  mustered  up  a  platoon,"  replied  the  captain ; 


114  SCENES   AT   WASHINGTON. 

"  I  would  not  care  if  it  were  a  regiment.  I  have  indeed 
heard  of  several  competitors  for  the  prize,  and  amongst 
them  your  young  friend  Leslie,  whom  I  always  see  in  close 
attendance." 

'*  I  should  hardly  have  the  courage,  captain,"  said 
Charles  Leslie,  "  to  meet  you  in  such  a  field.  The  mem 
bers  of  Congress,  however,  whom  Mr.  Levis  refers  to,  may 
be  more  than  a  match  for  you.  Your  rank,  though  high, 
is,  in  this  place,  very  subordinate  to  theirs." 

"  I  think,  sir,"  said  the  captain  briskly,  "  my  rank  equal 
to  any  man's. 

"  As  a  gentleman,"  replied  Charles  Leslie.  "  But  ladies  in 
Washington  appear  to  consider  those  who  have  the  power 
to  make  or  unmake  officers,  as  superior  to  the  officers 
themselves.  Competitors  for  their  favor  here,  meet  often 
upon  a  very  unfair  field,  and  may  be  foiled  in  a  manner  but 
little  thought  of." 

"  You  are  jealous,  Leslie,  I  see,"  said  the  captain,  "  but  I 
must  cross  your  path.  However,  as  there  are  two  of 
them,  you  can  attempt  the  one  I  may  leave  to  you." 

<c  Very  kind  that  of  you,  captain,"  put  in  Levis — "  very 
kind  of  you,  to  Leslie.  I  will  try  for  the  other." 

"  And  welcome,"  gayly  replied  the  captain,  passing  his 
eye  over  the  slight  figure  of  his  new  rival.  "  Pray  meet 
me  then  at  the  Assembly  to-morrow.  A  clear  field  and  no 
favor." 

"  Agreed,"  said  Levis.  "  I  shall  bring  my  best  tactics 
to  bear  upon  you,  and  have  no  doubt  I  shall  rout  you.' 

The  captain  answered  only  by  a  laugh  of  great  self- 
complacency. 


SCENES  AT  WASHINGTON.  115 

"  Shall  we  go  to  war  ?  Will  additional  regiments  be 
raised  ?"  inquired  Mr.  Levis. 

"  Certainly,  as  to  your  first  question/'  replied  the  cap 
tain.  "  The  difficulty  still  is,  to  say  when.  Our  foreign 
relations  are  getting  worse  and  worse,  and  after  we  have 
quarrelled  a  little  longer,  we  shall  leave  off  hard  words, 
and  come  to  hard  blows.  Additional  regiments  will,  of 
course,  be  raised,  and  perhaps  they  may  be  authorized  by 
Congress  this  session.  I  hope  so,  for  I  have  reason  to  ex 
pect  the  command  of  one  of  them." 

"  It  would  be  wise  to  do  so,  no  doubt,"  said  Levis.  "  We 
are  in  a  very  unprepared  state  for  war,  and  shall  be  soundly 
drubbed,  I  doubt  not,  before  the  military  spirit  be  roused 
up  amongst  us.  A  few  frigates  and  a  few  regiments  are 
but  a  small  force  with  which  to  contend  against  Great 
Britain,  busy  as  she  may  be  kept  by  Bonaparte  in  Eu 
rope." 

"  No  doubt,"  replied  the  captain,  "  we  are  unprepared 
in  every  way,  but  I  do  not  believe  that  our  greatest  de 
ficiency,  as  respects  the  army,  is  yet  thought  of.  If  the 
notion,  that  the  old  revolutionary  officers  will  be  the  best 
men  to  lead  our  troops,  be  adopted,  we  shall  suffer  for  it 
severely.  Years  have  quenched  the  spirit  of  their  youth. 
Men  who,  in  the  course  of  nature,  have  but  a  few  years  to 
live,  are  very  chary  of  those  few  years.  Additional  hon 
ors  very  few  of  our  revolutionary  officers  need  :  emolu 
ments  of  pay,  fewer  still.  Energy  and  enterprise  will  not 
be  found.  If  we  expect  to  fight  battles  on  land  with  suc 
cess  against  Great  Britain,  young  men,  who  have  honors 


116  SCENES  AT  WASHINGTON. 

and  high  rank  to  gain,  should  be  employed,  and  honors  and 
high  rank  should  be  held  forth  as  the  reward." 

"  You  are  clearly  right,"  said  Levis,  **  but  I  doubt  if 
your  ideas  will  be  acted  upon.  The  old  officers  of  the 
war  of  Independence  have  a  strong  hold  on  the  affections 
of  their  countrymen  and  it  will  be  impossible  to  begin 
except  with  them,  if  we  are  compelled  to  change  soon  af 
terwards  for  younger  men." 

"  Yes,  I  suppose  so,"  replied  the  captain.  "  The  rea 
sons  I  have  stated,  I  believe  to  be  sound,  but  that  you  have 
assigned  will  be  acted  upon,  and  it  will  be  unfortunate,  I 
am  sure  ;  for  a  great  and  unnecessary  sacrifice  of  life  may 
be  induced  by  it.  To  give  another  reason.  If  the  old 
officers  retained  anything  of  the  energy  and  activity  of 
youth,  they  would  be  so  wedded  to  the  old  tactics,  they 
would  be  no  match  for  the  men  of  the  new  system  of  mak 
ing  war,  introduced  since  the  commencement  of  the  French 
Revolution.  I  have  no  doubt  of  the  bravery  of  our  people, 
but  this  only  makes  it  the  more  necessary  that  they  should 
be  well  commanded.  From  all  the  reflection  I  have  given 
to  this  subject,  I  have  come  to^his  conclusion — that  the 
general  officers  in  one  war,  from  which  they  have  retired 
with  rank  and  honors  sufficient  to  satisfy  them,  are  not  fit 
to  lead  the  army  in  the  next  war,  in  which  they  have  no 
more  to  gain,  but  everything  to  lose." 

'*  That  is  a  new  idea,  captain,"  said  Levis,  "  but  really 
it  seems  reasonable.  However,  this  is  a  subject  which 
you  military  gentlemen  ought  to  understand  best ;  and 
your  Secretary  at  War  is,  you  know,  an  old  officer  of  the 
war  of  Independence." 


SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON.  117 

"  And  for  that  very  reason,"  replied  the  captain,  "  will 
be  the  more  disposed,  if  war  breaks  out  while  he  is  in  office, 
to  give  up  the  army  to  these  old  men.  And  yet  there  is 
enough  now  before  the  world,  to  convince  any  thinking 
man,  of  what  would  be  best  upon  this  subject.  The  young 
French  officers  have  proved  infinitely  superior  to  the  old 
tacticians  of  the  school  of  Frederic  the  Great." 

"  After  all,"  said  Levis,  "  I  do  not  see  how,  in  a  war  with 
Great  Britain,  we  can  have  battles  of  any  importance  on 
land.  And  as  to  the  sea,  what  can  we  do  there  with  our 
half  a  dozen  frigates  ?" 

"  Fight,"  replied  the  captain,  "  if  but  to  show  her  that 
we  are  equal  to  her  in  bravery.  Our  naval  officers  have 
already  given  high  proofs  both  of  courage  and  professional 
skill.  We  cannot,  it  is  true,  contend  in  the  war  which  is 
approaching,  for  the  mastery  of  the  seas,  but  we  may  con 
vince  Great  Britain,  that  we  will  do  it  in  the  next.  Can 
any  of  you  tell  me  what  Captain  Decatur  thinks  would  be 
the  result  of  battles  between  single  ships  of  equal  force, 
American  and  British  ?" 

"  I  can  answer  your  question,  captain,"  said  Charles 
Leslie.  "  He  told  me  very  lately  that  we  should  beat 
them.  It  would  be  a  hard  fight,  he  said,  but  was  confi 
dent  that  we  should  get  the  victory." 

"  His  opinion,"  said  Levis,  "  goes  a  great  way  with  me, 
and  if  he  engages  an  enemy  of  equal  force,  I  shall  be 
greatly  mistaken  if  he  does  not  bring  her  into  port,  unless, 
indeed,  he  sinks  her.  His  acknowledged  bravery  and  cool 
ness  authorize  this  expectation.  A  few  successful  battles 
at  sea,  and  a  new  era  for  maritime  supremacy  begins. 


118  SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON. 

Great  Britain  had  better  be  just,  and  not  force  us  into  be 
coming  a  great  naval  power.  Her  fate  may  depend  upon 
this  very  question." 

"  Justice,  with  her,"  said  Mr.  Campbell,  another  gentle 
man  of  the  mess,  "  is  not  to  be  named.  She  can  exist  by 
her  maritime  superiority  only — through  it  she  pursues  dog 
gedly  her  commercial  monopoly — and  by  it,  will  endeavor 
to  extend  her  influence  over  the  globe,  to  the  last  moment 
she  can." 

"  And  by  it,  may  again  and  again  attempt  to  destroy  our 
Union,"  said  the  captain,  rising  from  the  table.  "  You 
will  meet  me  then  at  Philippi,  Mr.  Levis  ?"  he  asked,  turn 
ing  to  that  gentleman. 

"  Be  sure  of  it ;  and  prove  there  your  evil  genius.  So 
soon  as  you  see  me  in  the  room,  consider  yourself  as  de 
feated  as  certainly  as  Brutus  was  by  Antony." 

A  laugh  and  waive  of  the  hand  was  all  the  answer  the 
captain  gave,  as  the  door  closed  upon  his  fine  figure. 

"  You  are  a  handsome  fellow,  that  is  certain,"  said 
Levis,  and  not  deficient  in  sense  and  information.  Pity 
that  your  towering  vanity  should  spoil  your  fair  propor 
tions.  Will  he  succeed,  Leslie  ?" 

"  How  can  he, — when  you  are  his  rival  for  one  of  the 
ladies,  and  Mr.  Campbell  for  the  other  ?" 


SCENES   AT   WASHINGTON.  119 


CHAPTER    X. 

THE  Assemblies  at  this  time  were  held  in  the  old  theatre, 
which  was  fitted  up  on  these  occasions  into  rooms  for  dan 
cing  and  supper,  with  a  third  appropriated  to  the  use  of  the 
ladies.  The  first  Assembly  for  the  season  had  been  anx 
iously  expected  by  the  three  girls,  who  were  very  desirous 
of  seeing  all  together,  the  beauty  and  fashion  which  then 
filled  the  city. 

"  Indeed,  Agnes,"  said  Clara,  as  they  were  dressing,  "  I 
hope  I  shall  commit  no  village  gaucherie  to-night,  and  be  as 
awkard  as  if  this  were  the  first  dance  I  ever  was  at  in  my 
life." 

"  I  have  the  same  tremors  myself,  sister,"  replied  Agnes. 
**  I  hope  Charles  may  be  there.  If  I  had  him  for  my  part 
ner  in  the  first  dance,  I  think  that  my  embarrassment  would 
be  lessened,  and  I  could  do  well  enough  afterwards." 

"  You  must  do  without  him,  Agnes,"  said  Clara.  "  Go, 
he  will  not,  though  I  pressed  him  to  oblige  us  with  his  com 
pany.  But,  pray  do  not  bring  him  up  before  me  just  now, 
when  I  mean  to  be  as  gay  as  I  can  ;  for  the  moment  you 
do,  his  words  sound  in  my  ears,  and  bring  thoughts  not 
suitable,  certainly,  for  the  ball-room." 

When  Mr.  Sydenham  reached  the  ball-room  with  his 
daughters,  Clara  felt  agitated  in  finding  herself  in  the  midst 


120  SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON. 

of  so  large  and  brilliant  an  assembly ;  but  advancing,  with 
her  arm  in  her  father's  on  one  side,  while  Agnes  held  the 
other,  they  moved  forward  to  the  head  of  the  room,  where 
a  group  of  their  friends  were  standing  in  conversation. 
Mrs.  Marchmont  received  them  with  one  of  her  sweetest 
smiles  ;  and  introducing  the  secretary  of  the  French  Le 
gation,  he  solicited  the  honor  of  Clara's  hand  for  the  next 
dance ;  and  then  leaving  her  for  a  moment,  brought  up  one 
of  the  attaches  of  the  embassy,  who  engaged  Agnes  also. 
The  set  was  soon  formed.  The  music  was  excellent,  and 
the  scene  altogether  so  exhilarating,  that  the  girls  soon  lost 
their  timidity,  and  felt  entirely  at  their  ease.  Clara  ob 
served  that  Captain  Jackson  had  Lucy  for  his  partner,  in 
the  set  next  to  hers,  while,  at  a  little  distance,  she  saw  Mr. 
O'Connor  in  conversation  with  Levis.  In  the  movements 
of  the  dance,  she  came  near  enough  to  make  some  lively 
remark  to  him,  but  before  he  could  reply,  the  figure  had 
carried  her  beyond  hearing. 

"  And  a  fine  young  lady  you  are,  sure,"  said  O'Connor, 
turning  to  Levis, — "  and  a  pity  it  is,  and  it  is  myself  too 
that  says  it,  that  I  was  not  born  some  twenty-five  years 
later." 

"  And  what  if  you  had  been  ?"  replied  Levis.  "  What 
success  could  you  have  expected  against  the  handsome 
captain,  who  declares  himself  desperately  smitten  with  her, 
and  determined  to  win  her ;  and  of  which  he  says  he  has 
no  doubt  ?" 

"  I  was  only  after  making  a  sort  of  a  supposition,  Misther 
Levis,"  said  his  friend,  "  and  every  now  and  then  such  will 
be  coming  into  my  head  ;  and  then  again,  when  they  see 


SCENES   AT   WASHINGTON.  121 


how  white  it  is  getting,  they  go  out  as  fast  as  they  came 
in,  as  if  they  were  ashamed  to  be  caught  there.  But  as  to 
the  captain,  he  has  no  chance,  or  I  know  nothing  of  Miss 
Clara  Sydenham.  Very  lively  she  is,  sure ;  but  her  deli 
cacy,  dignity  of  manners,  and  sound  sense,  forbid  the  idea 
of  her  ever  giving  her  affections  for  a  fine  figure  like  his, 
or  for  rank,  even  were  it  as  high  as  that  of  a  general.  He 
has  great  boldness  to  approach  her,  with  that  freezing  dig 
nity  which  she  assumes  the  moment  it  becomes  neces 
sary." 

"  And  yet  he  will  venture  it,  be  sure,"  replied  Levis. 
"  I  told  him  jestingly,  that  I  would  meet  him  here,  as  Bru 
tus'  evil  genius  threatened  to  meet  him  at  Philippi ;  and  his 
reply  and  manner  alike  convinced  me,  that  he  will  offer 
himself,  and  is  sure  of  succeeding.  It  is  a  pity  that  his 
vanity  is  so  immeasurable,  for  he  is  not  deficient  in  talents, 
and  stands  well  in  the  army." 

"  He  is  all  that  you  represent  him  to  be,"  said  Mr.  O'Con 
nor,  "  and  this  I  can  say  from  an  acquaintance  with  him  of 
some  standing.  But  he  is  here  upon  ground  of  which  he 
knows  nothing,  and  may  meet  a  repulse  in  a  way  which  he 
does  not  expect,  if  he  thinks  to  get  Miss  Sydenham  for  the 
asking.  I  will  wager  my  pay  for  the  session  upon  that." 

"  I  am  not  disposed  to  take  your  offer,"  replied  Levis  ; 
"  but  see,  the  dance  is  over,  and  the  gentlemen  are  leading 
their  partners  to  seats.  Let  us  be  lookers-on  in  Verona 
for  awhile." 

The  young  ladies  had  rejoined  their  company  attended 
by  their  partners,  who  then  went  off  together  to  order  re 
freshments.  This  movement  gave  the  captain,  upon  their 

6 


122  SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON. 


return,  an  opportunity  of  getting  a  seat  next  to  Clara,  and 
of  asking  her  to  dance  the  next  cotillion  with  him.  Though 
by  no  means  pleased  with  the  request,  Clara  saw  that  she 
could  not  refuse  consistently  with  good  manners,  or  the 
rules  of  the  ball-room,  and  assented.  It  was  about  this 
time  that  the  waltz,  since  so  fashionable,  was  introduced 
into  the  amusements  of  our  country,  but  was  so  repelled 
by  the  then  delicacy  of  our  females,  that  it  had  not  assumed 
the  wanton  movements  upon  which  every  eye  is  now  fixed 
with  pleasure  as  well  as  admiration.  The  cotillion  which 
the  band  was  playing,  was  danced  to  a  figure  in  which  the 
waltz  occasionally  made  a  part,  and  no  liberty  was  per 
mitted  the  gentleman,  but  that  of  laying  his  hand  on  his 
partner's  shoulder,  as  they  turned  round.  When  this  was 
to  be  done,  the  captain  placed  his  on  Clara's.  "  No,  sir,  no  !" 
she  exclaimed,  shrinking  from  him,  and  then  walking  the 
circle  as  that  part  of  the  figure  required  for  the  waltz. 
Her  partner,  feeling  the  repulse  keenly,  kept  by  her  side, 
and  the  dance  soon  afterwards  ended. 

The  two  lookers-on  in  Verona  had  been  in  observation. 

"  And  did  you  see  that,  Misther  Levis  ?"  said  O'Connor. 
"  Sure  too,  it  was  just  what  I  was  looking  for,  and  well 
done  it  was.  The  captain  will  be  defeated." 

"  I  think  so  too,"  replied  his  friend ;  "  and  I  am  highly 
gratified  at  seeing  so  undisguised  and  prompt  a  repulse  of 
liberties  as  indelicate  as  they  are  ungraceful."  Approach 
ing  the  set  before  it  broke  up,  and  watching  his  opportunity, 
he  whispered  to  the  captain  that  he  had  observed  what  had 
just  taken  place,  adding,  that  "  his  evil  genius  had  the  mas 
tery  that  night."  But  the  captain  had  neither  time  nor  in- 


SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON.  123 

clination  to  reply  just  then.  The  dance  was  not  over, 
and  his  mortification  was  too  great  to  give  it  the  expres 
sion  he  wished.  But  his  thoughts  were  instantly  turned  in 
the  direction  of  Lucy,  and  he  determined  to  change  his  ob 
ject,  and  transfer  his  operations  to  her.  When  the  dance 
was  over,  and  he  had  led  Clara  to  a  seat,  he  went  off  in  an 
other  direction,  with  the  intention  to  find  or  make  an  oppor 
tunity  for  his  proposals  to  Lucy,  as  confident  as  ever  of 
succeeding  with  her,  as  he  had  been  of  succeeding  with 
Clara. 

Soon  after  he  had  gone,  one  of  the  managers  came  up 
to  Agnes,  and  asked  her  to  dance  with  a  gentleman  from 
New  York,  who  had  requested  him  to  solicit  the  honor  of 
her  hand.  She  immediately  assented,  and  the  manager 
soon  brought  up  the  gentleman,  and  introduced  him  as  Mr. 
Gambroon.  As  soon  as  they  took  their  places,  Captain 
Decatur,  who  had  been  conversing  with  Clara,  Lucy,  and 
Agnes,  left  the  two  former,  and  followed  Agnes,  continu 
ing  his  conversation  with  her.  At  every  interval  of  the 
dance,  as  the  figure  required,  the  captain  immediately 
touched  her  arm  to  draw  her  attention,  and  renewed  the 
conversation.  When  the  dance  was  over  he  went  with  her 
to  her  seat.  Her  partner  had  gone  to  the  manager,  who 
soon  re-appeared,  making  the  same  request  to  Lucy,  on 
behalf  of  Mr.  Gambroon,  that  he  had  made  to  Agnes.  As 
soon  as  Lucy  rose  to  go  to  the  set,  the  captain  rose  also, 
and  acted  over  again  with  her  the  part  he  had  just  been 
performing  with  Agnes.  When  the  dance  was  over,  and 
the  young  ladies  were  again  together — "  Do  you  know," 
said  he,  "  who  it  is  you  have  been  dancing  with  ?  He  is  a 


124  SCENES  AT  WASHINGTON. 

shopkeeper's  clerk  in  New  York,  and  neither  by  his  man 
ners  nor  associations  has  any  title  to  the  pretensions  he  is 
assuming  here.  Knowing  this,  I  took  the  liberty  to  engage 
your  attention,  that  he  might  see  he  was  known,  and  have 
no  ground  to  say,  that  you  were  both  acquaintances  of  his." 

"  So  he  is,  most  certainly,"  said  Lucy,  laughing ;  "  I  now 
remember  buying  a  dress  from  him  in  Broadway,  and  I 
thought  I  had  seen  him  somewhere.  Thank  you,  captain, 
for  your  interference  ;  but  indeed,"  she  continued,  "  it  is  to 
be  wished,  that  some  mode  could  be  adopted  by  which 
these  over-democratic  admissions  to  the  ball-room  might 
be  prevented."  Agnes  added  her  acknowledgments  to 
Lucy's  for  the  gentlemanly  conduct  which  tended  to  lessen 
so  much  the  mortification  which  the  manager,  though  un 
consciously,  had  produced. 

Their  attention  was  now  drawn  to  a  movement  by  an 
other  group  of  ladies  advancing  to  their  side  of  the  room. 
Amongst  them  was  one  of  high  standing  in  society,  of  the 
olden  times,  and  yet  tenaciously  adhering  to  the  mode  of 
dress  and  manners  which  had  so  strikingly  characterized 
the  females  of  a  generation,  one  of  which  was  now  rarely 
to  be  seen  in  places  of  fashionable  amusement.  Her  stiff 
brockade,  high-heeled  shoes,  tight  stays,  as  they  were  then 
called,  arms  bared  to  above  the  elbow,  and  head  dress  as  an 
tique  in  shape  as  costly  in  material,  gave  instant  evidence, 
that  a  belle  of  the  last  century  had  made  her  appearance 
amongst  the  belles  of  the  present.  As  she  came  up  to 
where  the  three  young  ladies  and  Captain  Decatur,  with 
Mr.  Hollis,  who  had  now  joined  them,  were  in  conversa 
tion,  the  gentleman,  whose  arm  the  fine  old  lady  held, 


SCENES    AT   WASHINGTON.  125 

stopped  to  introduce  to  her  an  acquaintance  of  his,  who 
acknowledged  the  honor  by  a  low  bow.  The  lady  turned 
to  him,  and  crossing  her  arms,  returned  one  of  those  slow, 
modest,  and  graceful  courtesies  which  had  been  in  fashion 
half  a  century  before.  "  Was  not  that  pretty,"  said  the 
captain  to  Clara.  "  Can  you  equal  it,  do  you  think  ?" 

"  Perhaps  not,"  she  replied.  **  It  was  pretty  indeed  ;  easy, 
natural,  and  graceful.  I  hardly  think  that  our  manners 
nowadays  can  compare  advantageously  with  those  of  our 
mothers ;  for  the  object  now  seems  to  be,  to  substitute 
something  artificial  for  what  is  ease  and  nature." 

"  Will  you  let  the  gentlemen  have  anything  to  think 
upon  that  subject,  Miss  Sydenham  ?"  said  Mr.  Hollis. 

«  By  all  means." 

"I  think  then,"  said  he,  fixing  his  look  intently  upon 
Clara,  "  that  the  daughters  greatly  surpass  the  mothers  in 
grace  of  manners,  as  well  as  in  cultivated  understandings. 
We  have  in  the  Old  Dominion  yet,  wherewith  to  make  the 
comparison." 

**  You  had  permission  to  think,  Mr.  Hollis,  not  to  speak," 
said  Lucy.  "  You  gentlemen  of  Congress  bring  the  priv 
ileges  of  the  House  with  you  into  the  ball-room." 

"  Excuse  him  this  time,  Miss  Marchmont,"  said  Mr. 
Campbell,  who  had  joined  them  just  at  that  moment,  "  Ex 
cuse  him  this  time  for  the  cause." 

"  I  do  not  know  that  I  shall,"  replied  Lucy,  who  had  in 
terfered  to  cover  the  embarrassment  which  she  saw  Mr. 
Hollis' s  attentions  were  causing  to  Clara.  "  A  compliment 
to  the  daughter  at  the  expense  of  the  mother,  is  no  com 
pliment  at  all." 


SCENES    AT   WASHINGTON. 


"  I  do  not  admire  compliments,  for  my  part,"  said  Mr. 
Campbell,  "  as  they  are  usually  applied.  The  highest  com 
pliment  I  could  pay  to  a  lady,  would  be  in  telling  her  of 
the  failings  in  her  character  ;  for  in  doing  so,  I  should  be 
lieve  that  her  heart  and  understanding  would  cause  her  to 
see  those  failings,  and  correct  them." 

Lucy  gave  her  lover  one  of  her  sweetest  smiles.  Clara 
cast  down  her  eyes.  Mr.  Campbell's  words  had  struck  her 
deeply  even  in  the  ball-room,  —  and  Charles  Leslie  was  in 
her  thoughts.  But  their  attention  was  suddenly  called  to 
a  scene  of  confusion  which  had  just  opened  in  another 
part  of  the  room.  Two  sets  were  engaged  in  a  cotillion, 
and  a  young  man  who  belonged  to  one  of  them,  and  whose 
dancing  was  much  admired,  was  so  elated  at  his  own  per 
formance,  that  his  movements  became  extravagant  ;  his 
heels  got  entangled  in  his  partner's  dress,  and  after  violent 
efforts  to  clear  himself,  they  both  fell  to  the  floor  together. 
The  lady  was  assisted  to  her  feet,  her  dress  torn  almost 
from  her  :  the  gentleman  in  a  plight  not  much  better. 
They  both  had  to  retire  immediately,  while  the  spectators 
could  with  difficulty  smother  the  laugh  which  the  faux  pas 
had  excited.  *'  What  is  the  matter,  O'Connor  ?"  asked 
Levis,  as  they  encountered  at  the  other  end  of  the  room. 

"  Sure,"  said  O'Connor,  "  and  it  is  nothing  else  but  that 
a  lady  has  fallen  in  the  ball-room  ;  and  is  that  any  great 
wonder  at  all,  at  all,  Misther  Levis  ?" 

"  I  think  not,"  said  his  friend,  dryly,  already  out  of  humor 
with  the  waltz.  "  I  shall  not  be  surprised  to  hear  of  other 
falls.  But  I  have  seen  enough  :  good  night  ;  I  am  going." 

O'Connor   returned   his   farewell,  telling   him  that  he 


SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON.  127 


should  not  be  long  there  himself,  but  should  go  first  to  the 
supper-table,  to  which  the  company  would  be  summoned 
as  soon  as  the  cotillion  was  ended.  This,  however,  took 
place  in  a  few  moments,  and  from  a  laughable  circumstance 
indeed.  An  officer  of  the  marine  corps,  as  well  known 
for  his  intelligence  and  bravery,  as  for  his  high  bearing  as 
a  gentleman,  was  in  one  of  the  sets  which  were  then  on 
the  floor.  He  was  in  uniform,  and  one  of  the  hooks  which 
confined  the  breast  of  his  coat,  had  got  loose  from  the  eye 
on  the  other  side.  In  turning  his  partner,  the  hook  most 
unfortunately  caught  her  wig.  He  could  have  extricated  it 
in  a  single  moment,  had  the  lady  retained  her  presence  of 
mind  and  stood  still ;  but  instead  of  that,  she  clapped  her 
hand  upon  the  wig,  held  everything  tight,  and  made  for 
the  dressing-room  as  fast  as  she  could,  pulling  the  captain 
with  her.  Thus  the  good  manners  of  the  company  were 
again  in  requisition  upon  an  occasion  which,  if  not  so  mor 
tifying  as  a  fall,  was  vastly  more  trying  to  the  laughing 
propensities  of  those  who  were  near  enough  to  see  the 
manner  of  the  exeunt. 

Supper  was  announced .  The  ladies  had  rejoined  their 
party,  and  all  moved  onwards.  They  were  about  taking 
their  seats,  when  the  arrival  of  another  party  with  the 
lady  of  the  Secretary  of  State,  stopped  them  for  a  moment, 
to  interchange  the  civilities  which  their  first  meeting  for 
the  evening  rendered  necessary.  When  they  were  all 
fixed,  Clara,  with  much  pleasure,  found  herself  seated  next 
to  Mrs.  Madison.  She  had  already  been  several  times  in 
her  company  at  different  places,  and  at  her  house,  and  wor 
by  her  elegant  manners,  and  amiable  deportment,  felt  all 


128  SCENES   AT   WASHINGTON. 


the  mingled  emotions  of  respect  and  affection,  which  this 
fine  woman  never  failed  to  make  upon  the  young  and  un 
suspicious  heart.  And  even  to  this  day,  the  recollection  of 
scenes  long  past,  and  of  her  gentle  and  affectionate  atten 
tions,  still  call  forth  an  acknowledgment  of  what  is  due  to 
the  dignity  of  her  character,  as  to  the  surpassing  ease  and 
elegance  of  her  manners. 

The  appearance  of  the  company,  when  seated,  was 
splendid.  Dress,  ornaments,  smiles,  animation, — hopes,  it 
may  be,  gave  new  charms  to  what  of  themselves  were  suf 
ficient  to  enslave  all  Congress.  It  was  a  sight  to  rivet  the 
attention,  as  the  eye  wandered  from  one  to  another  of  more 
than  one  hundred  ladies,  none  of  a  plain  appearance,  and 
many  of  surpassing  grace  and  loveliness. 

The  dancing  had  been  resumed  after  supper,  and  the 
young  ladies  had  been  engaged  in  two  sets,  when  Mr. 
Sydenham  came  up  to  his  daughters,  and  telling  them  that 
a  violent  snow-storm  was  raging  without,  bid  them  to  get 
ready  to  go  home,  and  to  be  careful  to  wrap  themselves  up 
well  in  the  dressing-room,  while  he  went  out  to  order  up  his 
carriage.  Upon  reaching  the  dressing-room,  the  servant  in 
formed  Clara  that  Miss  Somerville  had,  by  mistake,  taken 
her  cloak  instead  of  her  own,  and  Clara  was  thus  compelled 
to  submit  to  the  temporary  exchange.  She  found,  however, 
that  it  was  every  way  equal  to  her  own,  and  exactly  re 
sembled  Lucy's,  both  in  the  fabric  and  fashion.  Agnes 
was  ready,  and  Clara  wrapping  herself  up,  and  drawing 
the  hood  well  over  her  head,  they  went  towards  the  door 
with  the  rest  of  the  party,  determined  to  crowd  all  the  la 
dies  into  Mr.  Sydenham's  or  Mr.  Marchmont's  carriage,  as 


SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON. 


either  might  be  first  able  to  draw  up,  and  leave  the  other 
for  the  gentlemen  to  follow  them  when  they  could.  But 
the  crowd  of  carriages  of  every  kind  was  so  great,  that 
neither  Mr.  Sydenham's  nor  Mr.  Marchmont' s  had  been 
able  to  get  to  the  door.  To  walk  to  them  was  out  of  the 
question,  for  the  snow  was  now  six  inches  deep.  As  they 
thus  stood,  Clara  sheltered  herself  behind  a  pillar  from  the 
keen  wind  which  was  pouring  in.  During  these  move 
ments,  the  party  had  been  closely  watched  by  a  gentleman, 
who  had  now  made  his  way  to  where  Clara  was  standing. 
She  heard  herself  suddenly  addressed  in  the  most  impas 
sioned  manner.  "  Cruel  girl !"  said  the  speaker  ;  "  the 
storm  is  kinder  than  thou  art,  for  it  has  prevented  your  de 
parture,  and  given  me  an  opportunity  of  suing  for  that 
hand,  without  which  life  has  no  value.  Lucy — adored 
Lucy  !  tell  me  that  I  may  hope."  It  was  the  captain,  who, 
true  to  his  purpose,  had  followed  the  party  ;  but  misled  by 
the  resemblance  of  Clara's  cloak  to  Lucy's,  and  not  able  to 
see  well  the  features  of  either,  had  most  unluckily  ad 
dressed  the  wrong  person.  Clara,  recognizing  his  voice, 
and  astonished  and  alarmed  at  such  an  unexpected  address, 
immediately  turned  towards  Mrs.  Marchmont  and  her 
party,  and  as  she  did  so,  a  loud  voice  from  the  street  an 
nounced  Mr.  Sydenham's  carriage,  and  then  Mr.  March- 
mont's.  Mr.  Sydenham  appeared  at  the  door,  and  imme 
diately  entered  his  carriage,  and  placed  his  daughters  on 
each  side  of  him.  Drawing  them  close  to  him,  and  throw 
ing  his  cloak  around  them,  to  shield  them  still  better  from 
the  severity  of  the  weather,  "  I  hope,  my  dear  girls,"  he 

said,  "  that  you  will  not  suffer  from  this  night's  dissipation." 

6* 


130  SCENES  AT  WASHINGTON. 

Clara  was  silent  for  a  moment,  and  then  threw  her  arms 
about  her  father.  "  Now  I  am  with  you,  dear  papa,"  she 
said,  "  I  can  laugh  again  ;  but  I  have  just  been  frightened 
and  agitated  excessively.  As  we  all  stood  in  the  lobby, 
expecting  every  moment  to  see  you,  and  to  learn  that  the 
carriage  was  at  the  door,  a  gentleman  who  had  followed 
us,  came  .close  to  me,  and  began  a  passionate  address  to 
me  as  if  I  were  Lucy,  being  misled,  I  suppose,  by  the  re 
semblance  of  our  cloaks.  I  immediately  drew  my  hood 
still  closer  about  my  face,  so  that  he  could  not  know  me, 
and  had  turned  to  get  near  to  Mrs.  Marchmont,  when  you 
came  up.  The  person  was  Captain  Jackson." 

"  He  is  intrusive,  my  dear,"  said  Mr.  Sydenham,  "  and 
presumptuous  in  his  manners  and  expectations.  If  he  di 
rects  his  attentions  to  you,  you  must  check  them  ;  and  if 
that  will  not  do,  I  shall  interfere  myself." 

"  I  can  hardly  expect,  papa,"  replied  Clara, "  that  he  will 
trouble  me,  as  his  declaration  to-night  was  certainly  in 
tended  for  Lucy.  But  if  I  am  mistaken,  I  will  attend  faith 
fully  to  your  directions." 

The  carriage  had  now  reached  Vanderhorn's.  The 
girls  ran  up  to  their  room,  and  in  a  few  minutes  Mrs.  March 
mont  and  Lucy  came  in  also.  As  soon  as  they  were  seated 
around  the  fire,  Clara,  in  a  fit  of  laughter  almost  uncontrol- 
able,  related  what  had  just  passed,  concluding  her  recital  with 
the  captain's  words,  "  Lucy — adored  Lucy — may  I  hope  V9 

Mrs.  Marchmont,  turning  to  Lucy,  asked  her  "  what  all 
this  meant.  Surely,  my  child,  you  have  not  been  giving 
Captain  Jackson  encouragement  to  address  you  ?" 

"Indeed  I  have  not,  my  dear  mamma,"  replied  Lucy. 


SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON.  131 

*  Clara's  account  of  what  has  just  taken  place,  is  as  unex 
pected  to  me  as  anything  could  be."  Here  a  fit  of  laughter 
at  the  captain's  unlucky  mistake  seized  upon  her,  and  was 
soon  taken  up  by  all  present.  "  But  never  mind,"  she  said, 
"  these  epaulettes  are  not  easily  driven  from  the  field,  but 
rally,  and  try  it  in  another  place.  Probably  he  will  be  here 
to-morrow,  and  as  I  shall  give  no  chance  for  hope,  I  think 
it  most  probable  that  he  will  make  his  next  offer  to  Clara. 
Nous  verrons ;  so  pray,  Clara,  stop  laughing.  Here  is  a 
large  tray  which  Ann  has  just  brought  up,  with  something 
upon  it  which  I  would  not  exchange  for  the  captain." 

"  Lucy — adored  Lucy — may  I  hope  ?"  repeated  Clara. 

"  Do  pray  stop,  or  I  shall  never  finish  my  cup  of  tea," 
said  Lucy,  putting  it  down,  and  laughing  again  violently. 
"  After  all,"  said  she, "  this  is  a  laughable  finale  to  an  evening 
which  I  have  passed  pleasantly,  let  it  have  been  to  others 
as  it  may." 

Mrs.  Marchmont  had  now  retired  to  her  own  room,  and 
the  three  girls  also  prepared  for  sleep,  which  soon  fell  upon 
them,  thoughtless  as  ignorant  of  what  futurity  might  have 
in  reserve  for  them  all, — and  as  innocent  and  guileless  as 
youth  and  loveliness,  in  its  time  of  witchery  and  power, 
could  be. 


132  SCENES   AT   WASHINGTON. 


CHAPTER     XI. 

"  TRULY,"  said  Mr.  Sydenham,  the  evening  after  the  As 
sembly,  "  truly  this  is  an  uncomfortable  night ;  and  I  hope 
you  will  all  remain  at  home,  and  we  will  have  a  family 
party.  The  girls  will  give  music  to  those  who  like  it,  and 
the  rest  of  us  will  have  a  game  at  loo." 

The  gentlemen  expressed  their  acquiescence  in  the  pro 
posal  :  the  table  was  drawn  out,  the  cards  thrown  upon  it, 
and  the  party  arranged  themselves  around  it,  Mr.  O'Connor 
handing  Mrs.  Stanley  very  gallantly  to  the  seat  nearest  to 
the  fire.  Mrs.  Marchmont,  who  never  played,  drew  out  a 
purse  which  she  was  netting.  Lucy  seated  herself  at  a 
table,  to  examine  some  beautiful  prints  which  her  father  had 
just  purchased.  Agnes  kept  close  to  Mrs.  Marchmont ; 
and  Clara  sauntered  carelessly  about  the  room  for  a  while, 
and  then  seated  herself  at  the  piano,  running  her  fingers 
over  the  keys.  Mr.  O'Connor,  who  was  dealing  out  the 
cards,  turned  round  his  fine  animated  face,  and.  taking  a  sur 
vey  of  the  large,  well-lighted  apartment,  and  bright  fire 
burning  in  the  grate,  "  And  sure  now,"  said  he,  "  and  it  is 
myself  that  tells  it.  we  are  all  comfortably  fixed ; — good 
company,  bright  lights  and  brighter  eyes,  and  a  warm  fire, 
while  the  rough  northwester  rattles  against  the  windows 
in  vain,  for  admittance.  And,  Miss  Clara,  will  you  plaise 
give  us  some  music  into  .the  bargain  ?" 


SCENES    AT  WASHINGTON.  133 

"  Anything  you  please,  Mr.  O'Connor,"  replied  Clara. 

"  Then  play  '  Erin  go  Bragh,'  while  I  cheat  Mrs.  Stan 
ley  out  of  her  money." 

" '  Erin  go  Bragh,'  Mr.  O'Connor,  and  welcome,"  replied 
Clara,  laughing,  "  but  no  cheating  of  the  ladies,"  her  fingers 
running  rapidly  over  the  keys  in  a  beautiful  symphony. 
She  then  played  and  sang  the  song  so  sweet  in  Irish  ears, 
with  great  taste  and  feeling,  Mr.  O'Connor  accompanying 
her  at  times  with  his  deep,  clear  bass.  Mr.  Campbell  then 
came  in,  and  was  soon  seated  alongside  of  Lucy.  A  little 
while  afterwards,  the  servant  announced  Captain  Jackson ; 
who  entered  with  one  of  his  most  graceful  bows,  his  fine 
figure  showing  to  great  advantage  in  his  military  dress,  and 
his  handsome  face  flushed  with  his  walk. 

"  Ah  !  captain,"  exclaimed  Mr.  O'Connor,  shaking  hands 
with  him  as  he  approached  to  the  card-table,  "  and  we  are 
very  glad  to  see  you.  You  had  a  very  fine  wind  from  the 
Seven  Buildings,  sure,  or  you  could  not  have  reached  here 
so  soon  after  supper." 

The  captain  replied,  that  he  had  dined  that  day  with  the 
Secretary  at  War ;  had  just  left  the  table,  and  had  called  to 
take  leave,  as  he  should  set  off  for  the  South  in  the  morn 
ing.  Mr.  O'Connor  expressed  surprise,  and  Mrs.  Stanley 
regret ;  saying  at  the  same  time,  that  "  he  had  better  ask 
for  a  few  days'  delay,  as  she  hardly  thought  he  had  yet  com 
pleted  all  his  business  at  Washington."  The  captain  well 
understood  the  lady,  though  no  one  else  did ;  but  told  her 
that  "  a  military  order  was  not  to  be  evaded,  however  pain 
ful  it  might  be  to  an  officer's  feelings,  or  injurious  to  his  af 
fairs,"  softening  his  voice  as  he  spoke,  and  casting  a  glance 


134  SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON. 

at  Lucy.  From  her,  however,  he  met  none  in  return. 
She  had  acknowledged  his  presence  by  a  slight  bow,  when 
he  entered  the  room,  and  had  again  given  her  attention  en 
tirely  to  Mr.  Campbell.  A  shade  of  disappointment  passed 
over  his  fine  features,  and  was  quickly  succeeded  by  angry 
feelings  arising  from  mortified  vanity.  He  stood  in  a  stud 
ied  attitude,  showing  his  fine  person  to  great  advantage, 
leaning  on  Mrs.  Stanley's  chair,  as  if  he  were  observing 
the  players,  but  far  different  thoughts  engrossed  him.  He 
had  been  playing  a  deep  game,  and  now  found  himself  in  a 
position  in  which  it  was  to  be  feared  that  he  would  lose  it. 
He  had  unequivocally  solicited  Lucy's  hand,  but  the  night 
before,  and  now  found  her  wholly  engrossed  by  another, 
who  he  knew  was  his  rival,  and  evidently  having  no  inten 
tion  of  giving  him  an  opportunity  to  renew  his  suit.  This 
very  rival  too,  had  heard  his  boasts  of  his  confidence  of 
success  with  both  of  the  ladies.  What  course  was  now  to 
to  be  taken,  was  the  question.  An  engagement  with  one 
of  them  must  be  made,  that  his  interests  might  be  left  safely 
with  her  father  during  his  absence  ;  otherwise,  all  his  ex 
pectations  of  preferment,  in  which  he  had  been  confirmed 
by  Mrs.  Stanley's  approbation  of  his  plan,  were  worthless. 
His  pride,  too,  was  aroused.  "  Must  I  go  South,"  thought 
he,  "  and  leave  my  name  to  be  the  scoff  of  Levis,  Campbell 
and  Leslie  ?  Miss  Sydenham  is  every  way  equal  to  Miss 
Marchmont,  and  I  will  now  try  what  a  coup  de  main  can 
do  to  secure  her.  If  I  succeed,  I  will  steal  one  day  from 
the  War  Department  to  make  all  safe." 

At  this  moment  a  loud  laugh  arose  at  the  card-table. 
Mr.  O'Connor  had  just  won  a  large  pool  from  Mrs.  Stanley, 


SCENES  AT  WASHINGTON.  135 

who,  rising  from  the  table,  declared  that  she  was  bankrupt, 
and  did  not  play  that  night  with  her  usual  judgment  and 
success.  "  Thank  you,  Miss  Clara,  "  cried  out  Mr.  O'Con 
nor,  "  your  music  has  charmed  away  Mrs.  Stanley's  wits, 
and  given  me  an  opportunity  of  winning  from  her  ten  bales 
of  cotton.  Come  here,  captain,  and  take  her  place,  and  do 
your  best  to  win  them  back.  But  what  is  the  matter  with 
you  ?  Sure,  now  that  I  have  time  to  look  at  you,  you  have 
much  the  appearance  of  a  man  going  upon  a  forlorn-hope." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  the  captain,  rallying  his  thoughts  and 
laughing,  "  you  gentlemen  of  Congress  have  not  yet  passed 
the  army  appropriation  bill,  and  I  am  not  so  able  to  stand 
losses  as  well  as  Mrs.  Stanley.  The  power  that  charmed 
away  her  wits,  as  you  say,  may  perhaps  steal  away  my 
melancholy."  He  then  moved  across  the  room,  and  took  a 
chair  near  Clara,  who  was  still  seated  at  the  piano,  though 
not  playing  on  it. 

"  You  have  been  very  merry  at  the  card-table,  Captain 
Jackson,"  said  she.  "Mr.  O'Connor's  wit  and  fine  manners 
sometimes  draw  me  there  myself." 

"  Then  Mr.  O'Connor  is  to  be  envied,  Miss  Sydenham." 

"  Yes,"  she  replied,  "  the  ceaseless  sunshine  of  his  mind 
diffuses  an  exhilarating  influence  on  all  around  him,  and 
keeps  us  in  good  humor  with  ourselves,  and  everybody 
else." 

"  But  is  he  not  shining,"  said  the  captain,  "  with  a  bor 
rowed  light,  reflected  by  the  bright  rays  of  wit  and  beauty 
which  are  around  him  ?" 

"  Ah !    captain,"  replied  Clara,  "  I  shall  begin  to  think 


136  SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON. 

that  you  really  envy  Mr.  O'Connor  his  powers  of  attrac 
tion." 

"  Not  his  powers  of  attraction,  Miss  Sydenham,  but  his 
position  near  the  star  of  my  destiny.  I  am  going  off  to  the 
South,  with  the  painful  consciousness  that  each  day  drags  me 
further  from  all  that  can  give  value  to  existence ;  but  for 
tune  has  favored  me  with  an  opportunity  of  pouring  out  the 
anguish  of  my  heart  to  you,  and  to  plead  your  sympathy." 

Clara  turned  an  arch  look  towards  Mrs.  Marchmont. 
"Now,"  thought  she,  "  I  am  to  be  made  a  confidant  of,  just 
as  much  as  he  may  see  fit  to  reveal  of  his  last  night's 
offer." 

"  Yes, — certainly,  captain,"  she  said,  "  you  shall  have  my 
sympathy,  if  the  case  deserve  it;  but  first  let  me  know 
something  about  it,  and  I  then  can  better  understand  to 
what  extent  it  might  be  given.  How  long  have  you  been 
in  love  with  this  fair  lady  ?" 

"  Since  the  first  hour  we  met." 

"  Ah  !  Captain  Jackson,"  replied  Clara,  "  that  will  never 
do.  Love  at  first  sight  is  nothing  but  an  ignis  fatuus, 
which  the  first  breath  of  reason  dissipates.  You  will  have 
to  bear  the  absence  of  a  year  at  least,  to  test  your  con 
stancy,  before  you  can  expect  a  kind  look  or  a  smile." 

The  captain  was  perplexed  by  the  sportive  and  arch 
manner  in  which  his  intended  addresses  were  received. 
Common  sensibilities,  had  he  possessed  them,  would  have 
shown  him  that  he  could  have  no  interest  in  the  fair  girl, 
who  could  answer  him  thus  gayly  at  the  moment  she  was 
expecting  his  offer  :  but  led  onwards  by  his  selfishness  and 
vanity,  he  now  plunged  into  the  gulf  before  him. 


SCENES  AT  WASHINGTON.  137 

"  Oh  !  say  not  so,  loveliest  of  women  !"  he  exclaimed, 
seizing  her  hand  and  holding  it  firmly,  in  spite  of  her  ef 
forts.  "  Oh  !  say  not  so  !  sport  not  with  the  feelings  of  a 
heart  that  adores  you  !" 

Clara  was  struck  dumb  for  one  moment,  but  recovering 
herself,  "  This  to  me  !  to  me  !"  cried  the  offended  girl, 
struggling  violently  to  extricate  her  hand — her  face  flushed, 
and  her  form  elevated  to  its  utmost  height. 

"  Yes  !  to  you,"  cried  the  captain  ;  "  for  who  else  has 
such  power  to  charm  ?  and  how  can  you  ask  it,  when  your 
past  manner  towards  me  has  evinced  that  a  kindred  sym 
pathy  of  soul  has  existed  between  us,  from  the  first  hour 
we  met." 

Clara  stood  motionless,  and  unable  to  utter  a  word,  from 
the  presumption  and  vanity  of  her  admirer,  in  thus  attrib 
uting  to  her  feelings  towards  him,  to  which  she  had  ever 
been  an  utter  stranger  ;  but  her  sense  of  propriety  and  her 
natural  dignity  soon  resumed  their  places,  from  which  they 
had  been  violently  jostled  for  a  moment.  The  captain  still 
continued  his  passionate  professions  of  his  own,  and  ex 
pressions  of  her  preference  for  him ;  and  then  wound  up 
the  whole,  by  asking  her  permission  to  speak  to  Mr.  Syden- 
ham  for  his  approbation. 

Clara  had  now  determined  upon  her  course.  "  There  is 
no  occasion  for  that,  Captain  Jackson,"  said  the  indignant 
girl,  releasing  her  hand,  at  length,  by  a  sudden  effort, 
"  there  is  no  occasion  for  that.  My  father  was  speaking 
to  me  about  you  last  night,  and  I  will  now  speak  to  him 
myself."  Advancing  to  the  table  where  Mr.  Sydenham 
was  still  engaged  with  the  party  at  loo, — standing  close  to 


138  SCENES  AT   WASHINGTON. 

him,  and  looking  at  him  intently,  "  What,  my  dear  papa," 
said  she,  "  would  you  think  of  a  son-in-law  ?  I  have  just 
had  an  offer,  and  am  come  to  know  what  you  will  say  to 
the  gentleman." 

Mr.  Sydenham  turning  towards  her,  instantly  discovered 
Clara's  intention,  that  the  captain  should  receive  such  a 
repulse  as  the  insult  which  his  vanity  and  presumption  had 
given,  deserved.  "  Bring  him  forward — bring  him  for 
ward,"  he  cried ;  "  let  me  have  a  look  at  him."  The 
whole  party  had  now  thrown  down  their  cards  at  the  scene 
before  them.  But  the  captain  now  saw  his  error.  Over 
whelmed  with  confusion  at  the  turn  which  Clara  had  so  un 
expectedly  given  to  the  affair, — observing  the  indignation 
which  was  plainly  marked  upon  her  countenance,  and 
which  appeared  to  be  rapidly  rising  to  her  father's  also, 
he  could  stand  it  no  longer.  He  rose  from  his  chair — 
stammered  out  something  about  misapprehension — no  of 
fence  intended — was  going  off*  in  the  morning — till  getting 
near  the  door,  out  he  went.  "  Bring  him  back — bring  him 
back,"  cried  Mr.  O'Connor,  going  to  the  passage.  "  He  has 
beat  a  retreat,  sure,"  said  he,  returning ;  "  and  it  is  the  best 
thing  he  could  have  done."  A  burst  of  laughter  followed 
from  all  but  Clara,  who  was  still  too  angry  to  join  in  it. 

She  took  her  seat  at  the  table  with  Lucy  and  Mr.  Camp 
bell,  but  this  was  no  relief  to  her.  Lucy's  merriment  was 
unabated.  In  one  of  its  intervals,  Mr.  Campbell  inquired 
of  her  what  it  was  that  amused  her  so  much  more  than 
others  in  the  scene  which  had  just  been  exhibited.  Lucy 
then  told  him  what  had  occurred  the  night  before  at  the 
Assembly,  and  her  prediction,  that  Clara  herself  would  re- 


SCENES  AT  WASHINGTON. 


ceive  from  the  captain,  this  very  night,  the  offer  which  he 
had  made  herself  the  night  before.  This  set  off  Mr.  Camp 
bell  and  Lucy  once  more,  and  Clara's  natural  buoyancy  of 
spirits  having  regained  its  ascendency,  she  could  not  help 
joining  them.  "  And  what  new  thing  is  it  ?"  said  Mr.  O'Con 
nor,  calling  to  them,  "  that  you  have  found  out  ?  Send  it 
here  to  this  table,  that  we  may  know  if  we  are  to  join  you." 

Mr.  Campbell  related  the  affair  of  the  night  before,  and 
another  burst  of  laughter  broke  forth  from  all  but  Mr. 
O'Connor.  He  started  to  his  feet.  "  In  my  soul,"  said  he, 
"  I  am  ashamed  that  he  has  a  drop  of  Irish  blood  left  in 
him,  and  has  been  guilty  of  such  conduct.  But  that  he 
has  received  a  lesson  which  I  think  will  be  of  use  to  him, 
and  is  going  away  in  the  morning,  I  would  do  him  the 
favor  to  give  him  another  myself." 

To  the  general  merriment  which  had  been  operating 
through  the  company,  there  were  two  exceptions.  Mrs. 
Stanley  was  violently  offended  at  the  indignity  with  which 
she  thought  the  captain  was  treated.  She  left  the  room 
soon  after  he  did,  and  the  next  morning  left  Vanderhorn's. 
The  other  was  Hollis,  who  sat  observing  everything,  to  ap 
pearance,  very  philosophically,  but  in  reality  with  deep  in 
terest.  His  jealousy  had  been  aroused  by  both  the  captain 
and  Charles  Leslie,  and  though  his  penetration  soon  enabled 
him  to  discover,  that  he  had  the  most  to  fear  from  the 
latter,  he  was  still  not  without  apprehensions  from  the 
former.  The  captain's  dismissal  in  so  public  a  manner  had 
removed  all  fear  on  his  account,  and  his  spirits  rose  ac 
cordingly.  Advancing  with  his  usual  caution  to  his  object 
of  securing  Clara's  affections  for  himself,  he  now  sought  an 


140  SCENES   AT   WASHINGTON. 

opportunity  of  conversing  with  her.  He  began  his  re 
marks  with  admirable  dexterity,  as  to  the  captain's  vanity 
and  presumption,  which  he  attributed  to  his  handsome  face 
and  military  education,  and  then  complimented  her  upon 
the  promptness  and  the  mode  in  which  he  had  been  re 
jected.  "  And  may  such,"  he  added,  "  be  the  fate  of  all 
who  offer  you  a  homage  which  is  not  due,  as  well  to  your 
understanding  as  to  your  charms." 

This  was  well  expressed,  and  for  one  moment  Clara  felt 
it.  But  how  strange  is  our  nature  !  The  very  homage 
which  it  was  plain  her  new  admirer  wished  her  to  believe 
that  he  himself  was  then  offering,  was  the  very  kind  which 
Charles  Leslie  had  always  paid  to  her  ;  for  she  knew  and 
felt  that  when  he  told  her  of  her  failings,  of  which  she  never 
heard  a  word  from  Hollis,  Charles  appealed  both  to  her 
understanding  and  heart,  to  perceive  and  to  correct  them. 
Mr.  Hollis's  arrow  fell  at  her  feet,  harmless.  He  had  un 
wittingly  brought  up  before  her  remembrances  of  his  rival, 
which  the  dissipation  of  Washington  had  not  yet  effaced. 

The  night  was  now  far  advanced,  and  the  company  re 
tired  from  the  drawing-room. 

"  Where  is  Captain  Jackson,  Harry  ?"  said  Mr.  Levis  to 
the  servant  in  waiting,  the  next  morning.  "  You  had  bet 
ter  step  up  to  his  room  and  call  him." 

"  Captain  Jackson  went  away  in  the  stage,  last  night, 
sir,"  replied  the  servant. 

"  Went  away  last  night !"  said  Mr.  Levis,  in  surprise. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  repeated  Harry. 

"It  is  even  so,"  said  Mr.  Campbell.  "I  was  at  Vander- 
horn's  Last  night  when  he  came  to  take  leave,  and  announ- 


SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON.  141 

ced  that  he  was  ordered  back  to  the  South,  and  should  set 
off  immediately." 

"  Ah  !  indeed,"  said  Mr.  Levis,  "  I  wish  I  had  been  there 
to  have  seen  him  make  his  last  bow,  and  have  witnessed  the 
abrupt  termination  of  his  hopes." 

"  Abrupt  it  was,"  said  Campbell,  who  found  it  impossible 
to  repress  a  laugh  at  the  recollection  of  the  scene  of  the 
last  night. 

"  Well  then,  let  us  hear  how  it  was,"  said  Mr.  Levis. 
"  I  see  from  your  manner,  that  there  was  something  laugh 
able  ;  though  I  cannot  tell  how  a  leave-taking,  such  as  I 
should  suppose  the  captain  had  to  go  through,  could  have 
anything  ludicrous  in  it.  Do  you  mean  to  say,  that  either 
of  the  ladies,  or  both  of  them  shed  tears,  or  gave  him  some 
thing  for  a  remembrance  during  his  absence  ?" 

Campbell  again  broke  out  into  a  laugh.  "  No  tears  from 
either,  Mr.  Levis,  certainly,"  said  he,  "  but  most  unbounded 
laughter ;  and  that  too  from  the  token  of  remembrance 
which  one  of  the  ladies  gave  to  the  captain,  and  which,  I 
am  sure,  he  carries  about  him  this  morning." 

"  You  young  rogue,"  replied  Mr.  Levis,  "  you  only  in 
crease  my  curiosity  without  gratifying  it.  Begin  at  the  be 
ginning,  and  go  through  the  whole  scene." 

"  Excuse  me,"  said  Campbell,  "  I  should  not  be  able  to 
do  justice  to  it.  You  must  apply  to  Mr.  O'Connor." 

"  Well,"  said  Levis,  rising  from  breakfast, "  there  is  some 
thing  in  it  laughable  enough,  I  see,  and  I  will  find  it  out 

yet." 

The  gentlemen  left  the  room  one  by  one,  till  there  were 
none  left  but  Mr.  Campbell  and  Charles  Leslie.  "  I  did  not 


142  SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON. 

think  it  proper,  Leslie,"  said  Campbell,  turning  to  him.  "to  re 
late  before  all  at  the  breakfast-table  what  took  place  at  Van- 
derhorn's  ;  but  the  footing  upon  which  you  stand  with  Mr. 
Sydenham's  family  well  justifies  me  in  giving  you  an  ac 
count  of  it."  He  then  related  the  whole  affair,  concluding 
with  expressions  of  admiration  and  respect  for  Clara,  from 
the  manner  in  which  she  had  borne  herself  through  it. 

"  It  is  like  her,"  said  Charles  ;  "  she  has  an  intuitive  per 
ception  of  propriety,  and  a  dignity  of  mind  which  perceives 
and  checks,  in  a  moment,  the  slightest  attempt  of  vanity 
and  presumption  in  our  sex.  She  may  be  a  most  superior 
woman  in  time,  if  she  escape  the  infection  of  this  dissipated 
city,  and  get  home  as  guileless  as  she  came.  It  is  to  me  a 
most  thoughtless  thing  in  parents  to  expose  artless,  beauti 
ful  young  girls,  to  the  polluted  air  which  they  must  often 
breathe  here." 

"  It  is  so,"  replied  his  friend,  "  and  will  continue  to  be  so. 
The  seat  of  the  General  Government  of  our  rising  nation  will 
become  more  and  more  attractive  every  year  ;  and  will 
bring  together  at  every  session  crowds  of  ladies  who  will 
come  to  see,  and  to  be  seen,  to  admire  and  to  be  admired. 
But  say,  will  you  go  to  Vanderhorn's  this  evening  ?  You 
are  always  a  welcome  visitor  there,  I  know." 

"  I  arn  not  so  sure  of  that." 

"  But  I  am,"  rejoined  Campbell.  "  Consent  to  go.  I  will 
introduce  you  to  Miss  Sydenham,"  he  added,  smiling ; 
"  with  Miss  Marchmont  you  are  acquainted,  I  believe." 

"  With  the  latter,  Campbell,  not  quite  so  well  as  I  believe 
you  are.  But  I  see  you  are  taking  me  with  you  to  engage 
Miss  Sydenham  in  conversation,  while  you  pair  off  with 


SCENES   AT   WASHINGTON.  143 

Miss  Marchmont.  But  no  matter/'  Charles  added,  smiling 
in  his  turn,  "  I  will  go  with  you." 

The  evening  accordingly  found  them  at  Vanderhorn's. 
Upon  entering  the  drawing-room,  they  found  that  Clara  and 
Lucy  were  its  only  occupants.  As  the  young  men  ad 
vanced  towards  the  fireplace,  Campbell,  with  great  gravity, 
introduced  Charles  to  Clara ;  and  telling  her  that  he  was  a 
particular  friend  of  his,  but  very  bashful,  begged  her  to 
entertain  him  to  the  best  of  her  ability,  while  he  would  be 
seech  Miss  Marchmont  to  entertain  himself.  He  then  led 
Lucy  to  the  opposite  part  of  the  room,  out  of  hearing  of 
Charles  and  Clara,  who  were  seated  near  to  each  other. 

"  Campbell  is  in  high  spirits  to-night,"  said  Charles,  "  and 
it  needs  no  prophet  to  tell  the  cause  ;  and  glad  I  am  of  it. 
He  has  great  worth,  and  has  found  great  worth  to  match 
it.  You  have  begun  the  work  of  dismissal,  I  find,  Clara," 
he  continued,  "  from  what  Campbell  has  been  telling  me. 
How  many  are  to  meet  the  same  fate  ?" 

"  As  many  as  may  deserve  it,  Charles,"  she  replied. 

"  That  is  as  well  said,  as  the  other  was  well  done.  But 
pray  don't  abuse  your  power  when  you  are  using  it.  A 
gentleman,  in  offering  himself  to  a  lady,  pays  her  the  great 
est  compliment  he  can  ;  and  if  rejected,  it  should  be  done 
so  as  to  spare  his  feelings  as  much  as  possible." 

"  But  suppose  he  has  no  feelings  ?"  inquired  Clara. 

"  Such  a  case  seems  to  be  impossible,"  replied  Charles. 
"  But  what  a  scene  of  dissipation  Washington  is,"  he  added, 
turning  the  conversation.  "  Heaven  grant  that  you  may 
get  out  of  it,  as  artless  as  you  came  into  it !  I  often,  very 
often,  think  of  your  position,  and  hear  much  of  the  admi- 


144  SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON. 

ration  you  excite,  of  the  homage  you  receive,  and  wonder 
what  will  be  the  issue  of  it  all." 

"  You  have  heard,  then,  more  than  was  true.  But  were 
it  so,  nothing  but  good,  I  hope." 

"  I  hope  so,"  Charles  replied,  "  as  ardently  as  you  do, 
perhaps  more  so  ;  but  I  well  know,  that  the  society  at 
Washington  will  severely  test  the  principles  of  all  who 
mix  in  it.  Your  own  good  judgment  may  point  out  your 
course,  and  your  heart — pardon  me  this  once  that  I  use 
the  word — your  heart  will  prompt  you  to  act  up  to  it. 
Will  it  ever  be,  that  I  shall  see  you  all  I  had  once  dared 
to  hope  r 

Charles  Leslie,  when  in  conversation  with  Clara,  and  en 
deavoring  to  arouse  the  better  feelings,  which  he  thought 
she  still  possessed,  threw  into  his  voice  and  manner,  a  soft 
ness  and  interest  which  made  his  words  thrill  through  her. 
She  saw  his  attachment,  and  she  saw,  too,  the  conflict  of 
his  mind,  and  emotions  much  like  his  own  were  immediately 
excited  in  her  own  sensitive  bosom. 

"  Charles,  Charles  !  how  can  you  take  pleasure  in  giving 
me  pain  by" — 

"  Give  you  pain  !"  he  replied,  interrupting  her — "  to  do 
so,  is  the  last  thing  on  earth  I  would  be  guilty  of  inten 
tionally.  Rough  I  may  be — perhaps,  at  times,  intrusive, 
— but  never — never  has  there  been  a  moment,  that  I  have 
felt  aught  but  the  deepest  solicitude,  for  all  that  concerned 
your  character  and  happiness." 

Clara  was  deeply  affected  by  the  low,  impassioned  tone, 
and  expressions  of  her  first  lover,  and  turned  upon  him  a 
look  of  confidence  and  respect.  There  is  no  telling  to 


SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON.  145 

what  a  longer  conference  might  have  led  ;  perhaps  a  full 
understanding  might  have  taken  place,  and  years  of  sepa 
ration  never  have  been  known ; — but  just  then  a  crowd  of 
company  came  in,  and  the  young  ladies  rose  to  receive 
them. 

Mr.  Hollis  had  entered  the  room  at  the  same  time,  and 
his  eye  instantly  caught  the  position  of  the  two  couples, 
which,  the  one  out  of  the  hearing  of  the  other,  had  been 
so  dosely  engaged.  With  Mr.  Campbell  and  Lucy,  he  did 
not  concern  himself;  but  he  remarked,  that  both  Charles 
Leslie's  and  Clara's  countenances  betrayed  their  agitation. 
But  the  pride  of  the  Virginian  now  aroused,  as  well  as  his 
feelings  interested,  he  was  the  more  determined  than  ever 
to  push  his  attentions,  and  secure  his  conquest  of  Clara, 
and  thus  complete  his  triumph  over  one  whom  he  haughtily 
considered  his  inferior.  The  victory,  he  saw  plainly,  was 
still  contested  by  his  adversary,  but  this  only  urged  him  to 
more  strenuous  exertions. 


146  SCENES   AT   WASHINGTON. 


CHAPTER    XII. 

As  it  is  in  the  present,  so  it  was  in  the  last  generation. 
When  the  Assemblies  began,  they  were  followed  up  by 
party  after  party,  given  by  the  high  officers  of  the  Govern 
ment,  and  by  gentlemen  of  the  city  whose  means  were 
adequate  to  those  expensive  entertainments.  Sometimes  a 
sleighing-party  would  be  made  for  Bladensburgh  or  Alex 
andria  ;  and  one  or  two  persons  may  yet  remember,  how, 
in  one  of  them,  some  of  the  company  at  Vanderhorn's  were 
thrown  out,  and  mixed  up  together  in  the  snow.  Dissipa 
tion  and  excitement,  in  every  mode  which  the  ten-miles 
square  could  afford,  then  as  now,  bore  everything  before  it 
like  a  storm  ;  and  there  was  no  telling  what  wrecks  would 
be  seen  after  it  had  passed  over. 

At  all  these  parties,  Mr.  Hollis  was  a  constant  attendant 
upon  Clara.  His  attentions  were  plain  and  decided,  and  if 
not  pointedly  encouraged,  were  not  pointedly  repulsed. 
With  a  vanity,  of  which  most  men  have  a  share,  he  thought 
that  he  might  now  consider  himself  as  standing  upon  good 
ground  in  offering  himself,  and  he  determined  to  do  so. 
Charles  Leslie  had,  for  some  time  past,  kept  himself  in  the 
background.  After  his  conversation  with  Clara,  in  which 
they  had  been  interrupted  by  the  entrance  of  company,  he 
found  that  she  still  pursued  the  same  career  of  dissipation, 


SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON.  147 

with  unabated  ardor.  He  knew,  likewise,  that  Hollis  was 
incessant  in  his  attentions,  and  he  thought  that  he  had  seen 
twice,  when  he  was  at  Vanderhorn's,  that  he  was  encour 
aged  by  Clara.  He  now  left  the  field  to  his  rival.  In 
trenched  in  his  own  stronghold,  he  determined  to  await  the 
issue  of  the  trial  which  he  saw  plainly  that  she  would  have 
to  sustain  ;  and  though  it  was  with  deep  apprehension  of 
the  result,  still  he  was  anxious  for  the  decision.  Clara,  on 
her  part,  expected  Mr.  Hollis's  offer — some  time  or  other, 
— indefinitely,  before  the  session  closed  ; — and  though  at 
times  pleased  with  his  attentions,  had  not  yet  made  his  ex 
pected  offer,  a  subject  upon  which  she  had  formed  a  final 
determination.  To  a  woman  of  sense  and  honor,  who 
knows  that  a  connection  for  life  is  almost  the  most  impor 
tant  matter  which  she  can  ever  be  called  upon  to  decide, 
deep  reflection,  and  examination  of  her  own  heart,  are 
sure  to  follow  ;  and  if  any  apprehension  exists  as  to  the 
principles  of  her  suitor,  or  doubts  as  to  the  state  of  her 
own  affections  towards  another,  the  moment  of  decision  is 
put  off,  until  it  can  be  no  longer  avoided. 

In  this  state  was  Clara,  when  one  morning,  soon  after 
breakfast,  Mr.  Hollis  found  himself  alone  with  her  in  the 
drawing-room,  and  seizing  the  opportunity,  and  with  some 
what  of  Virginian  haughtiness,  made  his  proposals,  and  con 
cluded  with  asking  her  permission  to  speak  to  her  father. 
But  Clara,  after  all  that  she  had  thought  upon  the  subject, 
was  not  ready  with  a  definite  answer.  Thoughts  upon 
thoughts  rushed  through  her  mind  with  a  rapidity  which 
forbade  a  determination.  She  hesitated — attempted  to  speak 
— but  was  so  embarrassed  that  she  could  not  proceed.  All 


148  SCENES  AT  WASHINGTON. 

this  Mr.  Hollis  construed  in  his  favor,  and  he  became  more 
urgent  in  his  protestations,  which  he  continued  for  some 
minutes.  But  Clara  had  now  resumed  the  command  of 
herself.  She  expressed  her  sense  of  his  merits  as  a  gentle 
man,  and  sensibility  to  the  preference  he  had  avowed  ;  and 
concluded  with  saying, "  that  she  required  time  for  reflection 
before  she  could  give  a  final  answer."  This  was  certainly 
not  so  much  as  Mr.  Hollis  expected  ;  still,  part  of  the  lan 
guage  in  which  it  was  couched,  might  be  considered  as 
encouraging.  But,  embarrassed  himself  to  a  considerable 
extent,  and  his  pride  somewhat  aroused,  at  the  indecisive 
manner  in  which  his  offer  had  been  met,  he  expressed  some 
what  haughtily  his  acquiescence  in  her  present  determina 
tion.  He  then  added,  "  I  am  under  the  necessity,  Miss  Syd- 
enham,  of  setting  off  for  Virginia  in  the  morning,  and  shall 
be  absent  two  weeks.  At  the  expiration  of  that  period,  I 
will  wait  upon  you  for  your  decision,  which,  permit  me  to 
hope,  will  be  favorable."  Taking  up  his  hat,  he  bowed  and 
went  on  to  the  Capitol. 

He  had  reached  the  stairs,  when  he  met  Charles  Leslie. 
They  raised  their  hats  to  each  other,  and  passed  on.  A  few 
minutes  sooner,  and  those  three  persons,  so  singularly  sit 
uated,  would  have  met  together.  The  scene  between  the 
two  who  were  now  to  meet,  was  to  be  one  of  no  common 
interest. 

As  Charles  entered,  he  saw  that  Clara  was  alone,  and 
that  she  was  evidently  agitated.  He  was  at  no  difficulty 
to  account  for  it,  from  Hollis's  visit ;  and  with  the  precipi 
tancy  usual  with  jealousy,  attributed  it  to  the  engagement 
which,  he  believed,  she  had  just  made.  There  was  little 


SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON.  149 

time  for  reflection,  for  he  was  under  the  necessity  of  speak 
ing  to  her,  and  what  was  uppermost  in  his  mind,  it  was  a 
thing  of  course  with  him,  would  be  brought  forward.  "  I 
fear,"  said  he,  "  that  I  have  timed  my  visit  this  morning 
badly,  as  I  saw  a  gentleman  leave  you,  agitated,  as  well  as 
I  can  judge,  as  much  as  you  yourself  are  just  now." 

In  the  tumult  of  emotions  in  which  Clara  was  at  the 
moment  involved,  this  speech  was  most  unfortunate.  He 
had  asserted  a  mutual  agitation  between  Hollis  and  herself, 
and  thus  implied  a  mutual  engagement.  The  manner,  too, 
in  which  Charles  addressed  her,  though  arising  in  fact  from 
his  feelings,  appeared  to  her  to  be  trifling  with  her  own. 
Her  pride  was  instantly  in  movement.  The  only  discor 
dant  note  in  her  fine  character  had  been  struck  violently. 

"  Then,  Mr.  Charles  Leslie,"  said  she  petulantly,  "  you 
saw  a  gentleman.'* 

"  And  an  Infidel,"  he  promptly  replied.  Fixing  his  eyes 
upon  her,  he  added,  "  I  had  supposed,  that  a  gentleman 
who,  it  is  well  known,  was  refused  by  a  lady  of  high  dis 
tinction  in  Virginia,  on  account  of  his  infidel  opinions,  just 
before  he  came  on  to  Congress,  would  hardly  have  met  so 
ready  an  acceptance  of  his  offering  at  your  shrine ; — and 
that  too,  without  the  advice  of  your  mother." 

Clara,  who  had  heard  this  report,  only  became  more 
piqued,  that  Charles  should  have  mentioned  it.  The  cool 
manner  in  which  he  spoke,  increased  likewise  her  irritation, 
and.  the  reference  to  Mrs.  Sydenham's  ignorance  of  her 
conduct,  raised  it  to  its  full  height. 

"  Mr.  Leslie,"  said  she,  meeting  his  look  as  fixedly  as  his 
own,  "  it  is  a  long  time  that  you  have  taken  the  liberty  to 


150  SCENES    AT  WASHINGTON. 

make  remarks  and  censures  upon  my  deportment,  and  I 
have  often  told  you  how  disagreeable  it  is  to  me.  I  must 
now  tell  you,  that  as  I  see  there  is  no  probability  you  will 
cease  it,  it  would  be  agreeable,  that  you  cease  your  visits 
to  me  altogether." 

Charles  stood  motionless  for  a  few  moments,  his  eyes  still 
fixed  upon  the  proud  girl.  At  length  he  recovered  him 
self. 

"  It  shall  be  so,"  he  said,  while  his  voice  betrayed  the 
instantaneous  emotions  produced  by  so  unlooked-for  a  re 
pulse.  "  It  shall  be  so.  That  I  have  violently  offended 
you,  though  unintentionally  on  my  part,  I  see  ;  but  it  is  now 
due  to  my  own  character,  to  explain  myself  as  to  the  part 
which  I  have  hitherto  acted.  That  I  have  long  loved  you, 
you  must  have  known ;  but  how  truly  I  have  loved  you — 
how  anxiously  I  have  watched  your  conduct,  in  the  hope 
that  I  should  see  you  at  last  superadd  to  so  great  personal 
attractions  as  you  possess,  those  still  more  lovely  and  en 
during  of  a  mind  influenced  by  religious  views  and  hopes, 
of  all  this  you  knew  nothing.  You  may  consider  this  ac 
knowledgment  as  no  excuse  for  my  conduct,  but  your  gen 
erosity,  I  trust,  will  admit  it  as  an  extenuation  of  my 
offence,  and  cause  you  to  think,  in  a  calmer  moment,  that 
the  wretchedness  which  this  attachment  has  produced,  had 
no  need  to  be  increased  by  the  harshness  of  your  expres 
sions.  I  leave  you  then,  as  you  bid  me ;  but  hear  me  for 
the  last  time.  If  your  case  be  not  desperate — if  the  Divine 
Goodness  be  not  exhausted  towards  you — be  you  sure  that 
the  furnace  of  affliction  will  yet  be  kindled  for  you,  and 
the  dross  that  now  alloys  so  much  that  is  beautiful  in  your 


SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON.  151 

character,  will  at  last  be  consumed.  Farewell,"  he  added, 
with  increasing  emotion ;  and  taking  her  hand,  and  bend 
ing  low  over  it,  and  pressing  it  passionately  to  his  lips,  she 
felt  a  burning  tear  fall  upon  it.  Turning  quickly,  he  rushed 
to  the  door. 

"  Charles — Charles  !"  she  cried,  but  he  heard  her  not,  and 
was  gone. 

She  sat  for  some  moments,  motionless  ;  absorbed  in  the 
thoughts,  and  feelings,  and  results,  which  one  short  hour 
had  brought  to  bear  upon  her  destiny.  Within  that  period, 
she  had  been  addressed  by  one  man  of  elevated  standing 
in  society,  and  had  been  assured  of  the  attachment  of  an 
other  whom  she  had  long  respected,  and  whom  she  had 
now  driven  from  her  in  a  moment  of  irritation.  But  the 
events  had  followed  each  other  with  such  rapidity — they 
induced  such  a  tumult  of  thoughts — and  were  so  power 
fully  to  affect  her  happiness,  that  she  was  not  able  so  to  fix 
her  mind  as  to  follow  up  the  consequences.  She  retired  to 
her  own  room,  which  fortunately  for  her,  was  unoccupied, 
and  gradually  her  ideas  settled  into  a  more  regular  train ;  her 
position  was  clear  before  her,  and  she  saw  distinctly  that 
she  was  now  called  upon  to  decide  a  matter  upon  which 
depended  all  her  happiness,  for  earth  certainly,  and  it  might 
be,  for  heaven  also.  To  make  the  climax  of  her  difficul 
ties,  she  had  no  hope  of  Charles  Leslie.  She  herself  had 
told  him  to  cease  his  visits,  and  she  knew  him  too  well  to 
think  for  a  moment  that  he  would  lower  himself  by  repeat 
ing  his  attentions.  Her  acceptance  of  Mr.  Hollis,  was  then 
the  ground  upon  which  the  battle  was  to  be  fought. 

Pride,  as  usual,  was  the  first  to  enter  the  lists.     "  Charles 


152  SCENES   AT   WASHINGTON. 

Leslie's  language  to  me  was  too  bad,"  she  cried.  "  Mr. 
HolJis's  offer  was  readily  accepted  by  me,  he  says,  though 
rejected  by  a  lady  in  Virginia,  but  the  other  day  ;  and  I  am 
warned  as  to  his  infidel  opinions.  And  am  I  to  bear  to  be 
told,  that  I  am  ready  for  an  offer  as  soon  as  it  is  made  ? 
And  am  I  to  be  considered  as  a  mere  child,  not  capable  of 
judging  how  far  a  man's  principles  might  conduce  to  my 
happiness  ?  And  then  I  am  plainly  charged  with  disrespect 
to  my  mother  !  This  interference  with  my  concerns,  and 
censure  of  my  conduct,  is  what  no  woman  ought  to  sub 
mit  to,  and  I  was  right  in  dismissing  him  in  the  manner  I 
did." 

Then  she  would  reverse  the  picture  and  look  at  it.  "  I 
have  then,"  she  thought,  "  driven  from  me  a  man  whom  I 
have  known  and  respected  for  years — who  has  loved  me 
long  and  truly — to  an  union  with  whom  I  once  looked  for 
ward  with  a  firm  belief  that  his  principles  could  be  safely 
relied  upon  to  secure  my  happiness.  And  for  what  have  I 
done  this?  Has  he  told  me  anything  of  Mr.  Hollis  that  I 
was  not  well  aware  of  before  ?  Have  I  no  reason  to  fear 
in  trusting  my  happiness  to  a  man  so  utterly  destitute  of 
religious  principle?  Have  I  not  known  in  others,  the 
misery  thus  caused  ?  Certainly,  too,  it  was  my  duty  to 
have  apprized  my  mother  before  I  suffered  Mr.  Hollis  to 
go  so  far  as  he  has ;  and  yet  my  pride,  aroused  the  instant 
that  Charles  Leslie  spoke  to  me,  has  overborne  everything 
. — has  lost  me  the  only  man  who,  I  now  see,  ever  loved  me 
as  I  ought  to  be  loved — who  was  not  so  blind  that  he  could 
not  see  my  faults,  nor  so  dishonest  as  to  be  silent  when  he 
did  !  And  yet  I  have  told  him  to  leave  me  ;  and  told  him 


SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON.  153 

so  in  harsh  and  insulting  language  !"  Her  eye  then  rested 
upon  the  hand  which  he  had  pressed  so  passionately  to  his 
lips,  and  she  burst  into  tears.  "  No,  Charles,"  she  cried, 
"  no ;  though  my  hopes  that  our  fates  will  ever  be  united, 
are  feeble  indeed,  yet  never — never  shall  mine  be  united 
to  another's.  My  respect  and  affection  are  yours  entirely, 
and  shall  lie  buried  in  the  ruins  of  my  peace,  nor  eye  nor  ear 
shall  invade  the  sanctuary  of  the  deep — deep  desolation  !" 

In  this  noble-minded  girl,  the  triumph  was  as  complete 
as  the  contest  was  severe.  Pride,  the  sole  defect  in  her 
fine  character,  was  defeated  by  a  sound  judgment  and  sen 
sitive  heart,  and  a  decision  once  thus  made,  was  sure  to  be 
unchangeable.  The  tumult  of  passions  that  had  agitated 
her  so  violently  for  the  day,  subsided  ;  and  little  of  the  in 
ternal  conflict  she  had  sustained,  could  be  observed  the 
next  morning,  other  than  a  shade  of  sadness  which  every 
now  and  then  overcast  a  countenance  heretofore  constantly 
lighted  up  with  grace  and  animation.  The  blow  struck  at 
her  master  passion  had  only  made  her  more  lovely  and  in 
teresting,  while  a  new  incident  was  about  to  add' strength 
to  her  decision. 

Charles  Leslie  had  left  Clara,  in  a  state  of  excessive  agi 
tation  from  the  violent  blow  which  his  feelings  had  received 
in  a  dismissal  as  insulting,  as  it  was  unexpected.  He  knew 
nothing,  of  course,  of  the  conflicts  of  mind  which  she  was 
under  at  the  time  he  spoke  to  her,  and  he  could  not  there 
fore  fully  appreciate  her  behavior  towards  him.  Under  such 
view  as  he  could  take  of  it,  it  confirmed  his  worst  fears  of  the 
effects  which  he  had  always  dreaded,  that  Washington 
would  produce  upon  her  mind  and  character.  But  with 

7* 


154  SCENES   AT   WASHINGTON. 

the  principle  of  submission  to  the  Divine  providence,  which 
he  had  laid  down  for  his  government,  he  bowed  to  the 
stroke  with  humility,  though  suffering  from  it  severely. 
He  had  been  sitting  for  some  time  to  the  celebrated  Stuart, 
that  great  master  of  his  art.  for  his  portrait,  which  he  in 
tended  to  send  to  his  mother  as  soon  as  completed,  for 
which  three  sittings  more  only  were  required.  During  the 
week  following  his  last  interview  with  Clara,  it  was  finished, 
and  hung  up  in  the  great  artist's  room  in  Pennsylvania 
Avenue,  amongst  other  efforts  of  his  pencil,  and  on  the 
right  side  of  the  door  by  which  visitors  were  admitted. 

One  day  of  the  week  following  Mr.  Hollis's  departure 
for  Virginia,  the  party  at  Vanderhorn's  had  just  risen  from 
the  breakfast  table,  and  reached  the  drawing-room,  when 
Mr.  O'Connor  entered  in  his  usual  flow  of  spirits.  "  And 
this  is  a  day,  sure,  ladies  dear,"  said  he,  "  that  we  have  a 
holiday  for  Congress  ;  and  so  plaise  come,  and  get  under 
my  big  cloak,  and  go  and  see  how  handsome  Misther  Stu 
art  has  made  me  look  upon  canvas.  Indeed,  and  I  looked 
five  times,  before  I  could  find  out  it  was  myself,  sure." 
There  was  no  resisting  Mr.  O'Connor's  good  humor  and 
gentlemanly  bearing  at  any.  time,  and  the  three  girls  were 
soon  in  readiness.  A  few  minutes'  walk  brought  them  to 
Stuart's.  The  attention  of  the  party  was  first  occupied 
by  Mr.  O'Connor's  portrait,  which  hung  opposite  to  the 
door  by  which  they  had  entered  ;  then  by  those  of  the  two 
beautiful  Miss  Barrys  of  the  city  ;  when  the  entrance  of 
another  party  drawing  her  attention  to  the  door,  Clara  first 
saw  Charles's  portrait.  There  was  the  countenance, 
though  tinged  with  sadness — the  expression — the  perfect 


SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON.  155 

resemblance  which  that  great  master  of  his  art  only  could 
then  give.  Gazing  for  one  moment  intently  upon  it,  the 
next,  she  covered  her  eyes,  as  if  to  shut  out  the  sight  of 
something  insupportable  to  her  feelings.  She  then  looked 
at  her  hand,  as  if  to  discover  the  burning  tear  which  had 
fallen  upon  it,  forgetting  that  she  had  her  glove  on.  Their 
last  parting — his  last  look  upon  her — his  passionate  pres 
sure  of  her  hand — his  warning  voice  faithful  to  the  last  to 
her  happiness,  though  she  had  blasted  his  own — were  all 
vividly  before  her,  gave  additional  force  to  her  attachment, 
and  caused  her  to  feel  more  bitterly  than  ever  the  separa 
tion  she  had  made. 

It  was  with  difficulty  that  she  retained  command  of  her 
feelings  while  the  party  remained  in  the  room.  Fortunately, 
the  girls  were  so  much  amused  by  Mr.  O'Connor's  lively 
remarks,  that  they  did  not  observe  her,  and  she  thus  es 
caped  an  addition  to  her  pain  which  would  have  been 
caused  by  it. 

True  to  his  word,  Mr.  Hollis  made  his  appearance  at  the 
breakfast-table,  on  the  morning  he  had  fixed  for  his  return. 
Knowing  that  the  gentlemen  of  Congress  would  retire  to 
their  rooms,  and  thence  go  to  the  House,  he  wended  his 
way  to  the  drawing-room  ;  a  thought  passing  through  his 
mind  that  Clara  had  gone  there  to  receive  him.  Upon 
opening  the  door,  he  found  himself  mistaken.  He  then 
touched  the  bell,  and  a  servant  appearing,  he  sent  his  re 
spects  and  asked  permission  to  see  her.  Clara  soon  came 
down.  He  scrutinized  her  closely  as  she  advanced  to 
wards  the  fireplace  and  took  her  seat ;  but  his  penetration 
was  utterly  at  fault  to  discover  anything  by  her  manner, 


156  SCENES  AT  WASHINGTON. 

from  which  he  could  learn  his  fate.  It  was  necessary,  then, 
that  he  should  begin  where  he  had  left  off.  Taking  his 
seat  near  her,  "  I  am  faithful  to  my  engagement,  as  to  my 
return,  you  see,  Miss  Sydenham,"  said  he.  "  May  I  now 
hope  that  I  shall  receive  your  acceptance  of  the  offer  I 
made  when  I  had  last  the  pleasure  to  be  with  you  ?" 

"  I  have  given  to  the  subject,  Mr.  Hollis,"  replied  Clara, 
"  the  consideration  which  is  due  to  it ;  and  while  I  profess 
myself  sensible  to  your  favorable  opinion,  must  inform  you 
at  the  same  time,  that  there  are  circumstances  which  com 
pel  me  to  decline  your  offer." 

The  Virginian  was  upon  his  feet  in  a  moment. 

"  Permit  me  to  remark,  Miss  Sydenham,"  said  he,  "  that 
your  behavior  towards  me,  authorized  me  to  expect  a 
very  different  answer  ;  and  I  ask  to  be  informed  what  cir 
cumstances  they  are  to  which  you  refer.  I  may  be  able, 
in  an  explanation,  to  set  them  aside." 

"  I  answer  to  the  first,  Mr.  Hollis,"  she  replied,  "  that 
gentlemen  are  too  prone  to  place  upon  female  behavior  a 
construction  which  it  ought  not  to  bear  in  justice  ;  to  the 
second,  that  it  may  be  due  to  yourself,  I  should  tell  you 
candidly,  that  my  affections  are  engaged  to  another."  A 
deep  blush  which  suffused  her  whole  face  and  neck,  con 
fessed  to  the  truth  of  her  acknowledgment. 

But  this  proud  man,  ignorant  of  the  character  he  had  to 
deal  with,  now  lost  the  bearing  of  the  gentleman,  in  the 
resentments  of  the  discarded  suitor.  He  stepped  back  a 
few  paces  from  Clara,  and  fixing  his  eyes  upon  her,  which 
almost  flashed  fire, — "  May  I  ask  further,  Miss  Sydenham," 
said  he,  with  a  sneer,  "  the  name  of  the  person  thus  favored, 


SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON.  157 

and  if  he  is  apprized  of  the  honor  which  you  have  done 
him  by  your  preference  ?" 

Clara  assumed  in  a  moment,  all  her  dignity. 

"  In  answering  you  candidly  as  I  did,  Mr.  Hollis,"  she  re 
plied,  u  I  did  it  at  the  expense  of  my  own  feelings,  consid 
ering  you  as  a  gentleman.  Your  last  question  has  con 
vinced  me  that  I  was  mistaken.  No  gentleman  would  have 
asked  it,  and  no  answer  will  be  given  to  it."  Rising  from 
her  chair  as  she  was  speaking,  she  bowed  slightly  as  she 
passed  him,  and  immediately  left  the  room.  The  next  morn 
ing  it  was  mentioned  at  the  breakfast-table,  that  Mr.  Hollis 
had  taken  lodgings  at  a  fashionable  hotel  on  Pennsylvania 
Avenue. 

"  And  what  is  the  maneing  of  all  this  ?"  said  Mr.  O'Con 
nor.  "  Mrs.  Stanley  went  off,  no  one  knows  why  ;  and 
now  Mr.  Hollis,  after  spending  the  winter  with  us,  off  he 
goes  in  the  spring,  without  asking  any  lave  of  the  house, 
at  all,  at  all.  And  where  is  he  to  find  such  clever  gentle 
men,  and  a  bit  of  an  Irishman  into  the  bargain,  as  I  am, 
sure,  and  three  such  pretty  young  ladies.  This  is  too  bad ; 
and  Miss  Lucy,  if  you  say  the  word,  I  will  invite  him  to 
Bladensburgh,  and  then  bring  him  back  with  a  bullet  in 
him." 

"  No,  no,  Mr.  O'Connor,"  replied  Lucy,  "  it  may  be  that 
he  is  wounded  already  ;  and  besides,  I  cannot  let  you  run 
the  risk  of  a  bullet  yourself.  You  know  what  a  favorite 
you  are  with  us  all." 

"  And  so  I  am,  sure,"  said  he.  "  But  you  only  tell  me 
so,  because  you  know  that  I  am  twice  and  a  half  as  old  as 
you  are." 


158  SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON. 

Lucy  laughed.  **  That  is  a  mountain  indeed,  Mr.  O'Con 
nor."  said  she,  "  that  is  impassable.  But  I  think  that  I  am 
bound  to  help  you  to  another  lady,  who  will  suit  you 
better." 

"  And  that  is  very  kind  of  you,  sure,  Miss  Lucy,"  re 
plied  Mr.  O'Connor  ;  "  so  make  haste  and  tell  me  who  it  is." 

Lucy  put  on  one  of  her  demurest  looks,  affecting  hesi 
tation  in  her  manner,  and  then  imitating  his  Irishisms,  she 
replied,  "  Mrs.  Stanley  is  the  lady,  sure,  Mr.  O'Connor  : 
who  else  ought  it  to  be,  at  all,  at  all  ?" 

A  burst  of  laughter  followed  this  announcement.  O'Con 
nor  joined  in  it  as  heartily  as  any  one,  and  telling  Lucy,  in 
parliamentary  language,  that  her  bill  was  laid  on  the  table, 
went  off  to  his  seat  in  the  House. 


SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON.  159 


CHAPTER    XIII. 

THE  spring  was  now  in  advance,  and  as  if  tired  even  of 
excitement  itself  at  last,  the  company  at  Washington  were 
breaking  off  towards  every  point  of  our  vast  Union.  Balls 
and  parties  had  ceased,  and  dinners,  of  a  family  character, 
rather  than  as  an  entertainment,  gave  note  that  the  inter 
changes  and  feelings  of  friendship  were  now  to  be  substi 
tuted  for  large  and  expensive  parties.  Amongst  the  citi 
zens  of  Maryland,  who  had  settled  in  Washington,  was 
Colonel  Beauchamp.  of  the  old  army,  with  his  lady,  both 
of  them  from  the  same  county  where  the  families  of  the 
Sydenhams  and  Leslies  resided,  and  intimate  with  both. 
Clara  was  in  the  habit  of  visiting  Mrs.  Beauchamp,  as  an 
old  and  valued  acquaintance  of  her  mother's.  Charles  also 
was  intimate  in  the  family,  and  a  great  favorite  of  the 
colonel,  with  whom  he  was  never  tired  with  conversing, 
and  drawing  from  him  his  recital  of  the  hard-fought  battles 
in  the  South,  in  most  of  which  the  colonel  had  been  en 
gaged.  Mrs.  Beauchamp  had,  by  dint  of  address,  and 
many  questions,  drawn  from  Charles  an  acknowledgment 
of  his  long  attachment  to  Clara,  though  he  resolutely  re 
fused  any  information  as  to  their  present  position  towards 
each  other.  All  she  could  learn  was,  that  there  existed  a 
coolness  on  both  sides.  In  one  of  Clara's  visits  to  her,  Mrs. 


160  SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON. 

Beauchamp  had  pressed  her  to  come  and  dine  with  her  the 
next  day,  and  Clara  had  agreed  to  do  so.  As  she  was  tak 
ing  leave,  "  I  should  have  told  you,  my  dear,"  said  the  old 
lady,  "  that  we  shall  have  no  one  with  us,  except  indeed,  it 
be  Col.  Beauchamp's  young  favorite,  Charles  Leslie.  That 
will  not  keep  you  away,  I  hope,  for  he  is  from  your  own 
village,  and  an  acquaintance  of  your  family,  I  believe." 
It  was  too  late  for  Clara  to  withdraw  the  acceptance  of 
the  invitation  she  had  just  given,  had  she  been  so  disposed, 
but  she  was  pleased  at  the  course  which  things  had  taken, 
anxiously  hoping  that  something  might  occur  to  lead  to  a 
renewal  of  Charles  Leslie's  attentions.  Col.  Beauchamp 
had  met  him  that  morning,  and  had  engaged  him  for  the 
next  day,  but  knew  nothing  of  his  lady's  invitation  to  Clara. 
This  was  the  position  of  the  parties. 

Clara  went  early  the  next  day  to  the  colonel's,  and  sat 
for  some  time  conversing  with  Mrs.  Beauchamp,  expect 
ing  every  moment  to  see  Charles  enter ;  but  he  had  been 
unexpectedly  detained  much  beyond  what  was  usual  with 
him.  At  length  he  came  in,  without  being  announced,  as 
his  intimacy  allowed  him  to  do,  and  to  his  astonishment, 
beheld  Clara.  He  stood  still  for  a  moment,  thoughts  rush 
ing  through  his  mind  with  the  rapidity  of  lightning.  "  How 
is  this  ?"  he  thought.  "  Has  she  come,  knowing  I  was  to 
be  here,  to  renew  our  old  friendship  ?  No ;  she  is  too 
proud  for  that.  To  aggravate  her  former  insult  by  repeat 
ing  it  ?  No  ;  she  is  too  noble  for  that."  But  he  was  com 
pelled  to  move  forward,  and  say  something  to  her  ;  but  so 
confused  was  he,  that  nothing  could  be  more  unfortunate 
than  what  he  did  say.  Advancing  rapidly,  as  if  by  a  des- 


SCENES  AT  WASHINGTON.  161 

perate  effort,  he  expressed  his  pleasure  at  seeing  her,  and 
then  added  abruptly,  "  But  what  havoc  the  dissipation  of 
Washington  has  made  with  you  !  Why,  Clara,  you  are 
not  half  so  pretty  as  you  were  !"  Clara  was  shocked  at 
this  rude  speech,  which  sounded  like  retaliation  for  the  past, 
and  was  worse  by  far,  and  more  unjustifiable  than  hers, 
which  so  deeply  wounded  his  feelings  ;  but  she  was  mis 
tress  of  herself  in  the  emergency,  and  answered  him  with 
her  usual  grace  and  good  manners.  Col.  Beauchamp  then 
came  in,  and  the  servant  entering  the  room  at  the  same  in 
stant,  informed  Mrs.  Beauchamp  that  dinner  was  on  the 
table. 

Charles  Leslie  was  overwhelmed  in  the  torrent  of 
thoughts  and  conjectures  which  rushed  upon  him.  Except 
twice  across  the  Senate  Chamber,  he  had  not  even  seen 
Clara,  and  they  had  never  met,  till  now,  since  their  un 
happy  parting  at  Vanderhorn's.  Of  her  engagment  with 
Hollis  he  could  learn  nothing,  but  as  he  knew  that  he  had 
left  his  lodgings  at  Vanderhorn's,  he  was  sure  that  no  en 
gagement  had  ever  existed.  How  was  it,  then,  that  he 
now  found  her  at  Col.  Beauchamp's  ?  His  embarrassment 
of  manner,  however,  gradually  went  off,  as  he  performed 
the  civilities  of  the  table,  and  he  was  gratified  in  perceiv 
ing  that  Clara  received  his  attentions  with  evident  satisfac 
tion.  By  the  time  they  rose  from  dinner,  he  found  himself 
in  an  animated  conversation  with  her,  in  which  she  plainly 
evinced  as  much  pleasure  as  he  did.  But  another  disappoint 
ment  was  at  hand.  They  had  hardly  reached  the  drawing- 
room,  before  Mr.  Sydenham's  carriage  drove  up,  and  the 
footman  coming  to  the  door,  delivered  a  message  to  Clara, 


162  SCEXES   AT  WASHINGTON. 

She  immediately  prepared  for  her  departure.  Charles  of 
fered  to  arrange  her  shawl  around  her  ;  she  suffered  him 
to  do  it.  He  took  her  hand  to  lead  her  to  the  carriage  ; 
she  did  not  withdraw  it.  He  assisted  her  into  it ;  she  did 
not  object  to  it.  Neither  had  spoken  a  word,  nor  could 
they.  Charles  stood  by  the  carriage  door,  wishing  to  get 
into  it  and  see  her  safe  home,  but  afraid  that  she  would  re 
fuse  if  he  asked  her  permission  ;  she  anxiously  hoping  that 
he  would,  but  ashamed  to  ask  him,  because  she  had  once 
told  him  never  to  visit  her  again.  Their  eyes  met,  and 
were  riveted  on  each  other,  as  if  with  a  presentiment  that 
they  would  not  soon  meet  again.  It  was  raining.  The 
footman  came  round  to  put  up  the  steps — then  closed  the 
door — the  carriage  rolled  away — and  years  rolled  away 
also  before  they  ever  met  again. 

The  match  was  not  yet  made  in  heaven. 

Upon  what  apparent  trifling  incidents  often  depends  the 
happiness  or  misery  of  years,  and  often  of  life  itself! 
How  utterly  uncontrollable  the  circumstances  under  which, 
in  our  fearful  moral  probation,  we  are  compelled  to  submit 
to  the  dispositions  of  an  overruling  Providence. 

As  the  carriage  drove  onwards,  Clara  looked  back  and 
saw  her  lover  standing  where  she  had  left  him,  his  looks 
still  fixed  upon  the  carriage  which  held  her.  It  then  turned 
into  another  street,  and  she  lost  sight  of  him.  She  was 
now  satisfied,  that  even  the  harsh  repulse  which  she  had 
given  to  him,  had  not  destroyed  the  deep  attachment  which 
he  h;id  long  felt  for  her — that  his  heart  was  still  hers — as 
she  knew  that  hers  was  his  entirely.  But  of  what  avail 
was  all  this  ?  While  unlooked-for  circumstances  brought 


SCENES  AT  WASHINGTON.  163 

them  together,  others  as  uncontrollable  immediately  arose 
to  part  them.  This  last  blow  was  terrible  ;  her  agitation 
became  excessive,  and  throwing  herself  into  one  corner  of 
the  seat,  and  covering  her  face,  she  burst  into  tears,  and 
could  with  difficulty  regain  her  composure  by  the  time  the 
carriage  had  stopped  at  her  lodgings. 

Hope  had  now  vanished.  But  this  was  not  the  furnace 
which  Charles  Leslie  had  told  her  was  to  kindle  upon  her. 
It  was  only  the  first  lesson  which  all  in  this  world  of  van 
ity,  have  to  learn — of  hopes  withered — of  keen  and  bitter 
disappointment !  And  so  may  it  be,  till  we  acknowledge 
that  He  who  has  given  to  us  this  our  glorious  existence,  best 
knows  how  and  when  to  give  us  all  that  can  conduce  to 
our  happiness  ;  and  proves  that  the  wisdom  which  is  per 
fect,  and  the  love  that  is  infinite,  cannot  fail  to  continue  in 
producing  a  result  so  beneficent ! 

Charles  Leslie,  when  he  had  lost  sight  of  the  carriage, 
returned  to  the  drawing-room. 

"Charles,  Charles,"  said  Mrs.  Beauchamp,  "how  could 
you  be  so  rude  to  Clara  ?  I  really  am  ashamed  for  you  !" 

>4 1  am  more  ashamed  for  myself,  madam,"  replied  Charles. 
"  than  you  can  be  for  me,  and  sorry  besides ;  but  to  tell 
the  truth,  which  is  always  best,  the  unexpected  sight  of  her 
confused  me  so  completely,  that  I  stammered  out  the  first 
thing  I  could,  and  most  unfortunately  for  me,  it  was  neither 
true  nor  gentlemanly.  There  seems  to  be  an  overruling 
power  that  still  keeps  us  apart." 

It  was  evident  from  all  that  had  just  occurred,  that  some 
great  change  had  taken  place  in  Clara's  mind  ;  and  that 
her  feelings  towards  Charles  Leslie,  instead  of  being  de- 


164  SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON. 

stroyed  by  the  dissipation  of  Washington,  had  only  been 
increased.  Persuaded,  now,  that  such  was  the  case, 
Charles  determined  to  see  her  once  more,  and  satisfy  him 
self,  by  a  conversation  with  her,  how  far  his  present  opin 
ions  and  hopes  were  well  founded.  Here  again,  adverse 
circumstances  interposed  their  usual  fatality.  Two  days 
passed  over,  and  he  had  not  been  able  to  go  to  Vander- 
horn's  ;  on  the  third  he  was  there,  and  upon  inquiring  for 
Mr.  Sydenham,  was  shown  to  his  room.  Upon  asking  for 
the  young  ladies,  Mr.  Sydenham  informed  him  that  they 
had  set  off  for  Baltimore  on  their  return  home,  in  company 
with  Mrs.  Marchmont,  to  that  place,  but  an  hour  before. 
"  I  am  sorry,  my  young  friend,"  he  added,  "  that  you  did 
not  see  them  before  they  left  the  city.  The  affair  in  which 
I  have  been  so  much  interested  for  you  is  in  a  fair  way, 
and  I  am  authorized  to  tell  you  that  you  will  go  to  Europe 
with  the  first  dispatches  of  importance  which  may  be  sent 
to  London  and  Paris.  As  yet,  the  time  is  not  fixed.  Com 
munications  from  our  Ministers  at  those  courts,  announce 
the  constant  recurrence  of  events  deeply  affecting  the  in 
terests  and  honor  of  our  country  ;  yet  so  liable  to  be 
changed,  that  definitive  instructions  cannot  hastily  be  given, 
whilst  also,  the  next  arrival  might  possibly  render  them 
necessary.  You  will  see,  then,  that  you  must  hold  your 
self  in  readiness  to  set  off  at  a  moment's  warning  ;  and  as 
you  will  need  some  preparation,  I  advise  you  to  make  it  at 
once,  and  not  to  leave  the  city." 

Charles  expressed  his  deep  acknowledgment  for  the  in 
terest  which  Mr.  Sydenham  had  taken  in  his  behalf,  and 
promised  to  follow  his  advice  implicitly.  Much  as  he 


SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON.  165 

wished  to  see  Clara,  and  disposed  as  he  was  to  follow  her, 
he  saw  that  it  was  out  of  the  question  to  do  so  with  pro 
priety,  after  the  counsel  which  Mr.  Sydenham  had  just 
given  him.  He  had  then  again  to  submit  to  circumstances 
unexpected  as  usual,  and  as  uncontrollable.  To  this  was 
now  to  be  superadded  an  absence  which  he  was  induced  to 
believe  might  be  of  long  duration,  and  then,  what  might 
happen  in  one,  two,  or  even  three  years  ?  But  reflections 
like  these  had  no  tendency  to  quiet  his  harassed  feelings, 
which  were  now  more  excited  than  ever  they  had  been, 
and  he  drew  to  his  aid  his  strong  principle  of  submission 
to  the  Divine  government,  and  commenced  his  prepara 
tions  for  his  departure.  This,  however,  did  not  take  place 
so  soon  as  he  had  been  led  to  expect.  Month  after  month 
passed  away,  but  the  Government  had  not  yet  decided  upon 
its  measures.  Persons  yet  living,  may  remember  that 
eventful  period  when  our  relations  with  Great  Britain  were 
threatening  to  end  the  long  peace  with  which  we  had  been 
blessed,  and  the  agitation  and  intense  anxiety  which  spread 
over  the  Union.  Everything  portended  war,  and  the  Gov 
ernment  anxiously  labored  to  prevent  it  by  negotiations 
and  offers  to  the  two  great  belligerents,  whose  blows  at 
each  other  fell  also  upon  nations  whose  interest  and  policy 
was  peace  with  both.  It  was  not  then  till  late  in  the  first 
year  of  the  new  administration  of  Mr.  Madison,  that 
Charles  Leslie  received  the  Government  Dispatches,  with 
orders  for  his  departure  for  New  York,  and  to  take  passage 
from  that  port  for  Europe. 

He  accordingly  set  off  immediately.     Upon  his  arrival 
at  New  York,  he  found  the  vessel  in  which  his  passage  had 


166  SCENES  AT  WASHINGTON. 

been  engaged,  detained  by  adverse  winds.  Clara  was  ever 
present  to  his  thoughts.  The  circumstances  which  had  so 
repeatedly  arisen  to  part  them,  seemed  now  to  have  effected 
a  long,  perhaps  a  final  separation.  With  his  mind  filled 
with  these  thoughts,  he  determined,  the  night  before  he 
sailed,  to  write  to  her,  believing  that  in  thus  giving  expres 
sion  to  his  own  feelings,  it  would  not  be  without  its  effect 
upon  hers. 

Charles  Leslie  to  Miss  Sydenham. 

"  Your  father,  no  doubt,  has  informed  you  long  since, 
that  I  was  to  receive  orders  from  the  Government,  with 
dispatches  for  our  Ministers  in  London  and  Paris.  You 
will  see  that  I  date  from  New  York.  We  sail  in  the  morn 
ing.  On  the  eve  of  a  departure  from  our  country,  for  a 
time,  the  duration  of  which  is  uncertain,  and  which  I  shall 
not  be  able  to  shorten  as  I  might  myself  wish,  I  have  ven 
tured  to  address  you.  I  should  indeed  have  infringed  your 
prohibition,  to  cease  my  visits  to  you,  and  have  followed 
you  to  Baltimore,  but  that  Mr.  Sydenham  counselled  me 
not  to  leave  Washington. 

"  You  have  told  me  that  I  was  harsh  and  unkind  in  my 
remarks  upon  your  behavior.  You  may  have  considered 
me  as  presumptuous  in  my  long  and  deep  attachment  to 
you.  The  first,  I  may  have  been,  for  my  feelings  were  al 
ways  too  strong  upon  such  occasions,  to  be  under  my  con 
trol.  For  the  latter,  I  must  plead,  that  with  all  your  fail 
ings,  as  I  considered  them,  had  I  not  seen  much  to  respect, 
to  esteem,  to  love,  I  had  long  since  ceased  even  to  think 


SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON.  167 

of  you.  But  knowing  you  as  I  do — respecting  you  as  I  do 
• — loving  you  as  I  ever  shall ;  to  cease  to  be  interested  for 
your  happiness, — be  where  I  may  on  earth,  was,  is  still,  and 
will  be,  impossible.  Forgive  then,  the  past ;  and  now  fare 
well, — noblest  of  women,  farewell.  Should  it  be  that  another 
may  attract  your  attention,  may  you  find  an  attachment  as 
deep,  a  love  as  true  as  that  I  have  felt  for  you ;  but  never — 
never  intrust  your  happiness  to  one  who  rejects  the  Redeem 
er  of  the  world.  And  if  distress  assail  you,  and  hope  for  this 
world  expire,  seek  it  from  Heaven,  and  believe  me,  I  be 
seech  you,  when  I  tell  you,  that  you  will  find  it ;  and  as 
Heaven  only  can  give  it,  so  none  can  take  it  away." 

Clara  was  sitting  alone  in  her  room  one  afternoon,  when 
her  servant  came  in,  and  handed  to  her  Charles  Leslie's 
letter.  Upon  reading  the  first  lines,  which  announced  his 
departure  for  Europe,  she  became  pale  as  ashes.  As  she 
read  on,  the  blood  returned  to  her  face,  and  suffused  it  with 
a  deep  blush.  Pain  at  the  separation  which  had  taken 
place,  was  mingled  with  pleasure  at  his  acknowledgment 
of  his  still  enduring  affection.  "  Heaven  preserve  him  ;" 
she  passionately  exclaimed,  clasping  her  hands  together. 
"  Perhaps  Heaven  may  give  us  to  meet  again,  when  I  may 
be  more  deserving  of  him  than  I  have  been." 


168  SCENES   AT   WASHINGTON. 


CHAPTER    XIV. 

THE  vessel  in  which  Charles  Leslie  had  taken  his  berth, 
made  sail  the  morning  after  he  had  written  to  Clara.  After 
a  boisterous  passage  of  forty-five  days,  he  arrived  at  Liv 
erpool,  and  taking  post  immediately,  soon  reached  London, 
and  delivered  the  dispatches  with  which  he  was  intrusted. 
There  he  was  compelled  to  remain  some  time,  until  our 
Minister  had  his  letters  prepared  for  the  embassy  at  Paris, 
and  could  make  arrangements  by  which  he  could  reach 
that  city.  But  this  was  no  easy  matter.  The  two  coun 
tries  were  then  engaged  in  that  bloody  strife,  which  was  not 
ended  but  with  the  total  overthrow  of  the  Emperor,  and 
all  direct  intercourse  was  cut  off  between  them.  As  our 
own  relations  with  Great  Britain  were  constantly  becom 
ing  more  embroiled,  and  more  threatening  in  their  aspect, 
our  Minister  was  unwilling  to  request  any  favor  from  her 
with  respect  to  Charles  Leslie's  mission,  and  determined 
that  he  should  land  in  the  north  of  Europe,  and  proceed 
thence  to  France.  Furnishing  him  accordingly  with  the 
necessary  papers,  Charles  sailed  for  Hamburg,  and  thence 
went  on  to  Paris,  and  delivered  to  our  Minister  at  that 
court,  the  dispatches  which  he  had  received  for  hhn  at 
Washington. 

More  than  two  years  passed  away,  before  all  the  pur- 


SCENES   AT   WASHINGTON.  169 

poses  for  which  he  had  visited  Europe,  were  accomplished. 
At  this  time  also,  the  near  approach  of  war  with  Great 
Britain,  which  was  now  seen  to  be  inevitable,  warned  him 
that  it  was  high  time  he  should  return  home.  Fortunately 
for  him,  he  was  able,  through  the  influence  of  our  Ambas 
sador  at  Paris,  to  obtain  a  passage  in  a  cartel  from  Ostend, 
bound  to  London.  There  receiving  dispatches  for  our 
Government,  he  took  post  to  Bristol,  where  a  vessel  was 
loading  for  Baltimore,  and  in  a  few  days  was  on  the  ocean. 
The  voyage  was  uncommonly  pleasant,  and  on  the  thir 
tieth  day  after  leaving  England,  they  saw  the  Capes  of 
the  Chesapeake.  When  the  man  at  the  mast-head  an 
nounced  land  in  sight,  Charles  rushed  upon  deck.  "  My 
own  dear  native  land,"  he  cried,  "  may  Heaven  preserve 
you  ever  from  the  vice  and  misery  which  aristocracy 
has  so  strongly  bound  upon  unhappy  Europe."  A  favor 
able  wind  carried  the  ship  rapidly  up  our  broad  Chesa 
peake,  and  in  twenty-four  hours,  she  was  safely  moored  in 
harbor.  Charles  set  off  the  next  morning  for  Washington. 
He  found  Congress  in  the  session  which  resulted  in  the 
declaration  of  war  against  Great  Britain.  This  important 
decision,  which  had  been  finally  made,  was  approved  by  a 
large  majority  of  the  people,  who  prepared  to  meet  the  conse 
quences  with  firmness  ;  while  it  was  violently  opposed  by  g 
party  too  prone  to  sacrifice  the  honor  and  interest  of  thei: 
country  to  their  personal  resentments,  or  hopes  of  personr  i 
aggrandizement.  The  remnant  of  Federalism,  which  had 
still  some  life  left  in  it,  had  recourse  to  all  the  arts  and  man 
agement  with  which  its  leaders  were  familiar,  to  turn  the 
popular  feeling  against  the  administration ;  and  losing  sight 

8 


170  SCENES   AT   WASHINGTON. 

of  the  duties  which  they  owed  to  their  country,  justified  the 
wrongs  which  Great  Britain  had  heaped  upon  us  for  years. 
Not  content  with  this,  they  resisted  alike  the  measures  pro 
posed  for  raising  troops,  or  imposing  taxes,  and  pushed  on 
five  of  the  States  to  an  opposition  as  unconstitutional  as  it 
was  devoid  of  patriotism.  The  remembrance  of  these 
times  may  be  of  use  to  us  now,  and  in  future,  and  in  the 
political  changes  to  which  we  are  subjected,  may  warn  us 
not  to  trust  any  man  who  pursues  his  personal  ambition  at 
the  expense  of  his  country. 

The  consideration  in  which  Charles  Leslie  was  held  by 
the  Government,  obtained  for  him  immediate  employment 
at  the  South,  and  he  was  ordered  to  repair  immediately  to 
his  station.  Whatever  personal  motives  might  have  ope 
rated  with  him  for  a  delay  of  some  time  in  his  native  State, 
they  had  to  give  way  to  the  more  important  duties  which 
the  country  now  required  from  all.  The  sound  of  war 
was  heard  throughout  the  length  and  breadth  of  our  vast 
Union,  and  our  unprepared  state  everywhere  rendered 
more  imperative  the  instant  and  strenuous  efforts  of  all  en 
gaged  in  the  public  service.  Delay  of  course  was  impos 
sible  :  he  set  off  immediately,  and  soon  reached  the  station 
to  which  he  was  ordered. 

It  would  be  irrelevant  to  go  into  details  of  our  operations 
during  this  trying  period  to  our  young  country,  or  to  ani 
madvert  upon  the  impolicy  of  our  Government  in  commen 
cing  a  war  when  no  adequate  preparations  had  been  made 
to  meet  it,  nor  to  express  mortification  at  the  repeated  dis 
graces  which  our  arms  suffered  in  our  first  essays  upon 
land.  A  short  time,  however,  was  sufficient  to  prove,  that 


SCENES   AT   WASHINGTON.  171 

the  bravery  of  our  people  was  equal  to  their  firmness,  and 
that  the  sons,  in  the  second  war  of  Independence,  had  not 
degenerated  from  their  fathers  in  the  first.  Our  blood  was 
poured  out  like  water  in  the  South  and  West,  and  left  im 
perishable  monuments  of  valor  and  patriotism,  contrasting 
brilliantly  with  the  apathy  of  the  North,  which  could  not  be 
aroused,  though  the  enemy  had  seized  upon  a  part  of  their 
territory.  Our  navy,  from  the  first,  showed  the  high  tone  of 
professional  character  of  our  gallant  officers  and  seamen, 
and  never  failed,  when  a  disastrous  defeat  on  land  was  an 
nounced,  to  arouse  the  national  spirit  by  a  victory  at  sea, 
over  our  proud  enemy.  "  Modest  Isaac  Hull,"  as  John 
Randolph  called  him,  but  as  brave  as  modest,  and  as  intelli 
gent  as  brave,  led  the  way  in  these  brilliant  achievements. 
He  was  soon  followed  by  others  of  merit  equal  to  his  own ; 
some  of  whom  still  live  to  reap  the  reward  of  esteem  and 
respect  from  their  grateful  and  admiring  countrymen,  while 
those  who  are  gone  illuminate  the  page  of  our  history  with 
a  blaze  which,  at  some  future  day,  may  light  others  on  the 
same  road.  As  a  nation,  we  were  tried  by  sea  and  land. 
As  a  nation,  we  stood  the  trial  firmly,  and  for  the  reward 
of  our  perseverance  and  bravery,  now  rank  with  the  first 
on  earth. 

During  the  whole  period  of  the  war,  Charles  Leslie  had 
been  actively  employed.  From  his  boyhood,  when  he 
read  of  our  wrongs  as  colonists,  he  had  detested  the  Gov 
ernment  which  had  inflicted  them.  Devoted  to  republican 
institutions,  which  the  old  classic  writers  present  in  such 
bright  colors  to  young  and  ardent  minds,  he  saw,  in  matu- 
rer  life,  in  those  of  his  native  land,  what  far  excelled  those 


172  SCENES   AT   WASHINGTON. 


of  Greece  or  Rome.  The  contest,  he  saw,  was  between 
republicanism  and  aristocracy.  If  we  failed,  the  latter 
might  wave  its  black  banner  over  the  New  World  as  it  had 
waved  it  over  the  Old  ;  if  we  stood  firm,  republicanism 
might,  by  the  influence  of  our  example,  help  to  redeem  the 
earth  from  the  combined  power  of  kings,  priests,  and  nobles. 
With  these  incentives,  added  to  a  strong  sense  of  moral 
duty,  Charles  Leslie  exerted  all  his  powers  in  the  execu 
tion  of  orders  transmitted  to  him  from  Washington.  Du 
ties  arduous  and  important  were  repeatedly  confided  to 
him,  and  repeated  acknowledgments  from  the  Government, 
of  the  fidelity,  promptitude,  and  efficiency  with  which  they 
were  performed,  showed  the  high  appreciation  in  which  his 
services  were  held.  Peace,  unexpected,  but  welcome  to 
all,  suddenly  put  an  end  to  the  fearful  preparations  for  an 
other  campaign,  which  threatened  to  waste  more  human 
blood  than  all  that  had  preceded  it. 

The  war  wras  followed  by  cessation  from  the  toils,  priva 
tions,  and  sufferings  it  had  caused  to  all  engaged  in  it. 
Business  of  every  kind  was  resumed  with  the  energy  pe 
culiar  to  our  countrymen,  and  commerce  soon  gave  to  the 
Government  an  increase  of  revenue,  vast  in  amount,  and 
established  our  credit  upon  the  firmest  basis.  The  people 
of  the  United  States,  elated  with  the  manner  in  which  our 
sailors  and  soldiers  had,  a  second  time,  met  the  disciplined 
forces  of  England  in  battle,  now  looked  forward  to  a  period 
when,  by  the  increase  of  our  population,  and  the  develop 
ment  of  our  resources,  we  might  claim  and  hold  a  high  posi 
tion  amongst  the  nations  of  the  earth.  What  we  could  do, 
was  now  evident,  and  it  was  just  as  much  so,  that  our  fu- 


SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON.  173 

ture  position  was  to  exact  from  Europe  a  justice  and  a 
courtesy  hitherto  denied  to  our  young  country. 

Several  years  had  now  elapsed  since  Charles  Leslie  had 
heard  anything  of  the  family  of  the  Sydenhams,  other  than 
that  he  saw  in  the  public  papers,  the  name  of  Mr.  Syden- 
ham  still  amongst  those  of  the  Representatives  at  Wash 
ington,  and  had  been  told  that  his  son  Frederick,  had  lost  his 
life  by  an  accident.  Beyond  this  he  knew  nothing.  Long 
absence  from  his  native  State,  new  scenes,  new  associa 
tions,  much  business,  and  many  years,  all  combined  to  pro 
duce  somewhat  of  their  usual  effect.  The  possibility  of  an 
union  with  Clara,  though  still  recurring  to  his  mind,  and  as 
often  cherished  when  it  came,  had  yet  been  weakened  by 
the  many  circumstances  under  which  he  had  been  placed. 
Their  repeated  separations  too,  at  the  moment  when  an  ex 
planation  seemed  to  be  certain,  as  he  looked  upon  them  as 
providential,  so  he  had  resigned  himself  to  them.  A  strange 
circumstance,  was  now  to  excite  his  interest  in  her,  with 
all  the  energy  with  which  a  first  and  deep  attachment  in 
youth,  though  it  may  be  weakened  for  a  time,  is  so  sure  to 
return. 

Some  time  after  peace  was  proclaimed,  Charles  found 
himself  residing  in  New  Orleans,  his  room  situated  oppo 
site  to  Maspero's  coffee-house.  It  was  his  custom  to  read 
late  at  night,  having  found  in  Bayles'  great  dictionary,  a 
fund  of  information  which  seemed  inexhaustible.  All  that 
man  ever  thought  or  ever  acted,  seemed  to  be  comprised 
in  that  celebrated  work.  Of  course  he  became  deeply  in 
terested  in  it.  But  his  thoughts  in  sleep,  instead  of  receiv 
ing  their  impressions  from  what  had  so  much  engaged  him 


174  SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON. 


when  awake,  were  of  a  different  character  altogether.  He 
dreamed  incessantly  of  Clara  Sydenham.  At  first  this  did 
not  strike  him  in  the  least  as  a  matter  to  be  thought  of.  It 
was  a  dream,  and  he  let  it  pass  for  a  dream  ;  but  it  returned 
so  often,  that  at  last,  waking  up  suddenly  one  morning,  he 
exclaimed,  "  What  can  all  this  mean  ?  My  thoughts  of  her 
when  awake  do  not  account  for  why  her  form,  her  features, 
should  be  thus  constantly  before  me  in  my  dreams  ?  Why 
we  should  be  interchanging  thoughts  and  emotions,  as  if 
our  attachment  had  never  known  interruption  ?  It  is  very 
— very  strange,  and  I  cannot  account  for  it." 

About  two  weeks  after  this,  the  servant  ushered  a  gen 
tleman  into  his  room,  whom  Charles  was  acquainted  with 
in  Baltimore,  and  who,  he  was  aware,  could  give  him  all 
the  information  he  desired  respecting  his  relatives  and 
friends  in  Maryland. 

"  I  am  heartily  glad  to  see  you,  Saunders,"  said  Charles. 
"  You  have  come  down  by  the  way  of  the  river,  I  find,  from 
the  work  the  mosquitos  have  done  upon  your  face.  What 
has  brought  you  to  this  country  of  sugar  and  cotton  and 
yellow  fever  ?  Sit  down  :  I  have  a  thousand  inquiries  to 
make  of  my  relatives  and  friends.  It  is  a  long  time  since 
I  passed  a  month  in  old  Maryland." 

Conversation  now  followed.  "  Yes  ;  I  was  informed," 
said  Charles,  "of  my  mother's  death, before  I  left  England. 
Indeed,  when  I  last  saw  her,  I  was  aware  that  her  age  and 
infirmities  left  little  hope  that  I  should  ever  see  her  again 
on  earth.  How  forcibly  the  loss  of  the  last  parent  strikes 
upon  the  heart  of  the  last  child  !  How  unavailing  our  re 
grets  !  But  there  is  another  and  a  better  world.  But  my 


SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON.  175 

uncle  James ;  tell  me,  Saunders,  does  the  old  man  yet 
live  ?" 

"  He  does,"  replied  Mr.  Saunders,  "  and  with  the  respect 
and  attachment  of  all  who  know  him." 

"  That  it  would  be  so,  if  he  were  alive,  I  never  doubted. 
No  man  of  his  generation  has  more  adorned  Christianity 
by  his  example  or  been  more  extensively  useful  in  his  pro 
fession.  May  mercy  and  peace  be  multiplied  to  him.  But 
tell  me,  where  does  Mr.  Sydenham  reside  now,  and  what 
has  befallen  his  family  ?" 

"  Mr.  Sydenham,"  replied  Mr.  Saunders,  "  has  retired  to 
his  farm,  where  he  now  lives,  with  Mrs.  Sydenham  and 
Miss  Clara.  Miss  Agnes  died  four  years  since." 

"  Agnes  dead  !"  said  Charles.  "  So  young — so  beauti 
ful  !  This  is  sad  indeed.  What  a  world  this  is  of  misery 
or  of  disappointment !  Frederick,  too,  I  learn,  is  gone. 
But  Clara, — is  she  married  ?" 

"  No,"  replied  Saunders,  "  and  no  likelihood  of  it,  that  I 
have  heard  of.  She  has  lived  in  great  retirement  for  a 
long  time.  Distresses  in  the  family,  of  a  pecuniary  nature, 
arising  out  of  security  which  Mr.  Sydenham  gave  for  others, 
then  Miss  Agnes'  death,  and  after  that,  Frederick's,  all  com 
bined  to  press  heavily  upon  her.  She  is  rarely  to  be  seen 
anywhere  except  at  church,  and  it  was  there  I  last  saw  her, 
about  six  months  since.  Her  features  and  form  remain  the 
same,  I  think,  as  when  you  last  parted  with  her  ;  though 
the  first  are  constantly  overcast  with  a  settled  melancholy, 
and  she  is  perhaps  thinner  than  formerly.  This  account 
will  prepare  you  for  what  I  have  now  to  tell  you.  She  is 
become  very  religious/' 


176  SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON. 

Charles  Leslie  started.  "  What  is  it  you  say  ?  Clara 
Sydenham  become  very  religious  !  Is  it  possible  !" 

"  It  is  not  only  possible,  but  certain,"  replied  Mr.  Saun- 
ders.  "  Why,  you  yourself,  I  thought,  must  have  known 
the  dreadful  state  of  mind  she  was  in,  before  she  joined  the 
church,  and  which  she  informed  you  of,  in  the  letter  she 
wrote  to  you." 

"  The  letter  she  wrote  to  me,  Saunders,  and  on  that  ac 
count  !"  said  Charles.  **  What  on  earth  are  you  talking 
about  ?  I  never  received  any  letter  :  I  never  even  heard 
of  it  before  this  moment." 

"  It  is  all  true,  notwithstanding."  replied  Mr.  Saunders, 
"  for  it  was  talked  about  a  long  while,  and  the  letter,  there 
is  no  doubt,  must  have  been  read  by  several  persons.  Aye  ! 
now  I  understand  it,  I  think.  The  letter,  as  I  was  told, 
was  addressed  to  you  at  Charleston,  and  probably,  sent  to 
the  post-office,  a  few  miles  distant  from  Mr.  Sydenham's. 
The  servant  either  lost  it,  or  it  was  stolen  from  the  office, 
and  thus  fell  into  the  hands  of  some  unprincipled  wretch, 
•who  made  this  dishonorable  use  of  it.  But  enough  of  this, 
if  you  please,  at  present,"  he  added.  "  I  am  here  unex 
pectedly,  and  unwillingly.  My  business  relates  neither  to 
*  sugar  nor  cotton,'  and  I  should  be  very  sorry  that  the  yel 
low  fever,  the  constant  visitor  of  this  city,  should  find  me 
here,  and  acclimate  me,  as  I  think  you  call  it.  My  wish 
and  request  is,  that  you  will  attend  to  the  settlement  of  the 
affair  which  has  brought  me  down,  and  which  I  will  explain 
to  you.  It  is  neither  intricate  nor  troublesome,  and  will 
engage  your  time  and  attention  for  a  short  time  only. 
Reports  that  the  fever  is  amongst  the  flat-boats  from  the 


SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON.  177 

West,  have  alarmed  me,  and  as  a  vessel  is  on  the  point  of 
leaving  this  port  for  Baltimore,  I  wish  to  seize  the  opportu 
nity  of  a  passage  in  it." 

"  Certainly,"  said  Charles  ;  "  it  will  be  a  pleasure  to  me 
to  be  of  any  service  to  you  in  my  power.  Let  me  know 
in  what  way  I  can  do  it." 

Mr.  Saunders  proceeded  immediately  to  an  explanation 
of  his  business,  and  leaving  the  necessary  papers  with  his 
friend,  rose  from  his  seat,  and  offering  Charles  Leslie  his 
hand,  '*  I  must  bid  you  now  farewell,"  he  said  ;  <;  this  will 
be  my  first  voyage  to  sea,  and  I  must  make  some  prepara 
tion  for  it,  especially  for  defence,  I  am  told,  against  the 
mosquitos,  in  descending  the  river.  But  tell  me,  when  do 
you  expect  to  visit  old  Maryland  ?" 

"  You  may  say,  that  probably  it  will  be  very  soon,"  re 
plied  Charles. 

Charles,  after  seeing  his  friend  to  the  street  door,  re 
turned  to  his  own  room,  and  threw  himself  into  his  arm 
chair,  completely  absorbed  in  the  rush  of  thoughts  and 
emotions  which  all  that  Mr.  Saunders  had  just  told  him, 
was  so  calculated  to  produce.  The  coincidence  of  time, 
and  the  information  itself  so  quickly  following  the  impres 
sions  of  Clara,  so  lately  and  so  strangely  made  upon  his 
mind,  could  not  but  agitate  him  excessively.  He  sat  a  long 
while  immovable,  lost  in  deep  thought,  recalling  to  his  rec 
ollection  her  form,  her  features,  their  many  hours  of  inter 
course,  and  her  last  and  fixed  look,  when  they  last  parted. 
"  Is  this  then  the  hand  of  Providence  now  manifested  ?''  he 
exclaimed,  starting  from  his  seat  and  pacing  the  floor.  "  It 
may  be  so.  Information  so  strangely  given  of  the  letter 


178  SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON. 

she  wrote  to  me — impressions  of  her  so  often  and  so  forci 
bly  compelling  my  attention — the  certainty  that  she  has 
adopted  a  religious  course,  it  would  be  wonderful  indeed, 
if  after  all,  what  of  life  may  be  left  for  both  of  us,  should 
be  passed  together.  Anyhow,  she  shall  have  the  offer 
of  it." 

He  took  his  resolution  to  return  to  Maryland  the  first 
opportunity.  In  a  week  afterwards,  having  dispatched 
Mr.  Saunders's  business,  he  took  passage  in  the  ship  Cum 
berland,  then  loading,  and  bound  for  Philadelphia.  The 
vessel  in  a  run  of  twenty  days,  cast  her  anchor  near  the 
lazaretto,  and  a  steamboat  coming  down  early  in  the  morn 
ing,  gave  to  him  an  opportunity  of  going  on  to  Baltimore 
immediately,  and  the  evening  of  the  same  day  found  Charles 
Leslie  in  that  city. 

His  inquiries  respecting  the  family  of  the  Sydenhams, 
confirmed  all  that  Mr.  Saunders  had  mentioned ;  and 
Charles  lost  no  time  in  the  execution  of  the  purpose  which 
had  brought  him  to  Maryland.  Taking  passage  in  the 
packet  which  made  her  trip  regularly  once  a  week,  he  was 
the  next  morning  set  ashore  in  the  small  boat,  at  the  lower 
end  of  Mr.  Sydenham's  garden.  The  old  family  servant 
took  his  baggage,  but  had  forgotten  him.  Charles  followed 
him  to  the  house.  "  How  strange  it  is  to  me,"  he  thought, 
"  to  find  myself  here  ;  and  stranger  still  the  purpose,  inter 
rupted  for  years,  that  has  brought  me  !  We  meet  then  once 
more,  and  now  she  will  be  mine,  or  we  are  indeed  parted 
forever  !"  He  was  now  in  the  drawing-room,  where  Mrs. 
Sydenham  met  him,  but  how  changed  !  Time  and  trouble 
had  made  sad  havoc  with  her  appearance,  but  had  dimin- 


SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON.  179 

ished  nothing  of  her  fine  manners  or  affectionate  feelings. 
After  the  first  expressions  of  pleasure  at  meeting  again, 
both  were  silent  for  some  time — thoughts  of  the  past,  never 
to  return — of  friends  to  be  seen  no  more  on  earth — engrossed 
them  entirely.  Mrs.  Sydenham  at  length  spoke.  "  You 
find  us,  Charles,"  she  said,  "  in  a  very  different  situation 
from  that  in  which  you  knew  us  long  since.  I  have  known 
much  sickness  and  much  wretchedness  since  I  last  saw  you. 
Agnes'  death  was  a  heavy  blow,  and  the  loss  of  Frederick 
since — both  together  have  pressed  upon  us  all  with  a  heavy 
weight  indeed.  Clara  is  all  that  is  now  left  us.  She  is  so 
greatly  changed  you  will  hardly  know  her.  She  rode  to 
town  a  few  hours  since,  and  I  am  expecting  her  return 
every  moment."  Mr.  Sydenham  here  came  in,  and  re 
ceived  Charles  with  great  cordiality.  He  had  much  to  in 
quire  of  him  respecting  his  movements,  since  they  parted 
last  at  Washington  ;  and  expressed  to  Charles  the  high 
gratification  he  felt  from  the  manner  in  which  he  knew  his 
services  were  appreciated  by  the  Government.  Charles, 
on  his  part,  expressed  his  gratitude  to  Mr.  Sydenham  for 
his  influence,  through  which  he  well  knew  it  was,  that  he 
had  been  employed. 

"  In  thanking  you,  sir,"  said  Charles,  "  for  what  you  have 
done  in  my  behalf,  it  is  a  satisfaction  to  me,  indeed,  to  hear 
you  say  that  I  have  not  disgraced  your  recommendation." 

Clara  had  been  to  the  neighboring  village,  and  was  now 
returning  in  company  with  her  cousin,  Miss  Lacy,  with 
whom  she  was  conversing,  when  the  carriage  stopped  at 
the  door.  Turning  her  face  at  the  moment  towards  the 


180  SCENES    AT   WASHINGTON. 

house,  "  Gracious  heaven !"  she  exclaimed,  "  there  is  Mr. 
Leslie." 

**  Do  you  know  me,  Clara  ?"  he  asked.  She  made  no 
answer,  but  by  holding  out  her  hand  to  him,  as  she  still  sat 
in  the  carriage.  He  assisted  her  out,  and  they  walked  on 
wards  to  the  house,  neither  uttering  a  word.  With  Charles 
the  hopes  of  years  would  now  be  realized,  or  blasted  for 
ever.  With  Clara,  the  sudden  surprise  at  seeing  him  in  so 
unexpected  a  manner,  was  mingled  with  pleasure  at  meet 
ing  him  again.  With  both,  the  feelings  of  years  were  com 
pressed  into  the  moment  which  again  saw  them  together. 

The  day  was  now  gone  and  the  evening  far  advanced. 
"  You  reject  me,  then,  Clara,"  said  Charles,  after  a  long 
conversation.  "  At  the  first  moment  that  was  possible  to 
me,  within  a  single  week  after  I  heard  of  your  religious 
views,  I  hastened  to  you.  You  know  how  long  I  loved 
you,  and  how  truly.  Refuse  not  a  heart  so  long  devoted 
to  you.  Beloved  as  lovely  ;  are  we  not  now  of  the  same 
faith,  with  the  same  hope,  travelling  the  same  road  to  our 
Father's  house  ?  I  will  strive  to  help  you  forward,  and 
you  can  help  me.  Disappoint  not  the  hope  which  your 
adoption  of  a  religious  life  has,  at  last,  suffered  me  to 
cherish." 

To  this  passionate  appeal  he  could  obtain  no  answer  but 
a  mournful  dissent,  expressed  by  a  movement  of  her  head, 
accompanied  by  floods  of  tears.  Charles  pressed  his  suit 
again  and  again,  by  every  motive  he  could  think  of.  Clara 
talked  with  him  fieely  upon  other  subjects,  but  when  he 
touched  upon  their  union  for  life,  the  same  mournful  move 
ment  of  her  head,  the  same  floods  of  tears,  attested  the  bit- 


SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON.  181 

terness  of  some  internal  strife  which  was  agitating  her  thus 
cruelly.  The  servant  at  length  showed  Charles  to  his 
room. 

He  took  off  his  coat,  and  threw  himself  across  the  bed. 
To  sleep  was  out  of  the  question.  The  affair  in  which  his 
feelings  and  his  happiness  had  been  so  long  deeply  inter 
ested,  appeared  still  to  be  involved  in  a  mystery  which  he 
was  unable  to  penetrate.  Day  broke,  and  found  him  in  the 
same  position.  Aroused  by  the  first  streaks  of  dawn  which 
came  through  the  blinds  of  the  windows,  it  became  neces 
sary  that  he  should  decide  upon  his  course.  **  I  have  once 
more,  then,"  he  said  as  he  arose,  "  seen  that  graceful  form  ; 
that  face,  now  chastened  in  its  expression,  by  sorrow  and 
suffering,  but  more  interesting  than  when  lighted  up  with 
all  the  gayety  of  youth  ;  I  have  pressed  her  lips  to  mine  for 
the  first  time,  and  it  is  to  be  the  last.  What  strange  mys 
tery  hangs  over  this  affair  !  But  she  rejects  me.  Heaven 
knows  what  is  best  for  us  both,  and  the  will  of  Heaven 
be  done.  Thus  I  began,  and  thus  will  1  end.  I  will  leave 
Mr.  Sydenham's  in  the  morning." 

"  Will  you  be  so  kind,  sir,''  said  Charles  to  him,  an  hour 
after  breakfast,  "  as  to  let  Harry  take  me  to  town  this  morn 
ing  ?  I  must  see  my  old  uncle  before  I  return,  and  I  can 
get  a  conveyance  thence  to  his  house." 

Charles,  at  this  moment,  was  standing  by  Clara's  chair. 
"You  must  not  go,"  she  said  in  a  low  voice,  pointing  to  a 
seat  near  her.  Mr.  Sydenham,  at  the  same  time  pressing 
his  stay,  Charles  agreed  to  do  so. 

In  the  course  of  a  long  conversation',  during  the  day, 


182  SCENES   AT   WASHINGTON. 

"  Clara,"  said  Charles  to  her,  "  will  you  tell  me  one  thing  -I 
am  very  desirous  of  knowing  ?" 

"  What  is  that?"  she  inquired. 

"  During  our  long  intercourse,  has  it  ever  been,  that  I  had 
any  interest  in  your  affections  ?" 

"  You  had,"  was  the  answer. 

"  And  yet,"  said  he,  "  though  there  were  times  when  I 
hoped  it  was  so,  I  never  remained  long  satisfied.  True 
love,  I  see,  is  a  fastidious  inmate,  ready  enough  to  appre 
ciate  to  its  fullest  value,  the  object  beloved,  but  quite  as 
ready,  for  that  very  reason,  to  depreciate  what  it  has  to 
offer  in  exchange.  I  always  thought  you  deserved  much 
more  than  I  had  to  give." 

"  I  did  not  think  so,"  she  replied.  "  You  know  nothing 
I  find,  of  what  passed  at  Vanderhorn's  after  that  wretched 
morning  when  I  last  saw  you  there.  In  accepting  Mrs. 
Beauchamp's  invitation  to  dinner,  for  she  had  told  me  that 
you  would  be  at  her  house,  I  hoped  that  some  circumstan 
ces  might  arise  to  lead  to  an  explanation.  The  manner  in 
which  you  first  spoke  to  me,  banished  that  hope  for  the 
moment,  and  the  unexpected  early  arrival  of  the  carriage, 
afforded  no  further  opportunity.  But  why  did  you  not  go 
with  me  to  General  Thompson's  ?  How  ardently  I  was 
hoping  you  would  !" 

"And  how  ardently  I  was  wishing  to  do  so,"  said 
Charles,  "  but  thought  that  you  would  be  offended  if  I  got 
into  the  carriage  of  my  own  motion,  and  there  I  stood  in 
the  rain,  hoping  )^ou  would  invite  me.  I  behaved  very 
badly  that  day  ;  but  the  truth  is,  that  having  no  idea  that  I 
should  meet  you  at  dinner,  for  I  had  no  intimation  what- 


SCENES   AT   WASHINGTON.  183 

ever  that  you  had  been  invited,  the  unexpected  sight  of 
you  threw  me  into  such  confusion  that  I  knew  neither  what 
I  said  nor  did,  at  the  moment.  I  had  hoped,  during  dinner, 
that  perhaps  I  had  not  offended  you  past  forgiveness ;  but 
as  soon  as  the  carriage  was  announced,  I  thought  I  saw 
plainly  that  you  had  come  to  show  you  could  pay  the  re 
spect  which  you  considered  as  due  to  an  old  acquaintance 
of  your  mother,  and  at  the  same  time  prove,  by  your  early 
departure,  that  you  cared  nothing  for  the  company  which 
she  had  invited." 

"Nothing  of  all  this  was  the  fact,"  she  replied.  "The 
arrival  of  the  carriage  at  so  early  an  hour,  was  a  mistake 
of  the  servant.  But  I  see  plainly,  that  Divine  Providence 
ordered  it  all.  As  the  carriage  went  on,  I  looked  back, 
and  saw  you  standing  where  I  had  left  you.  When  it 
turned  into  another  street  and  I  lost  sight  of  you,  it  was  a 
bitter  moment ;  but  I  will  not  tell  you  what  I  felt.  It  was 
necessary,  no  doubt,  that  it  should  be  so  ;  and  as  much  so 
that  I  should  pass  through  great  trials  and  distresses.  The 
furnace  you  told  me  of  was  soon  to  be  kindled  for  me,  and 
oh  !  how  fiercely  it  burned  !  Charles,  Charles — you  know 
not  what  I  have  suffered."  Clara  burst  into  tears. 

"  And  with  this  sweet  acknowledgment,"  said  Charles, 
"  can  it  be  that  you  reject  me  ?  And  is  our  next  parting 
to  be  really  forever  ?  Dearest  and  loveliest,  I  again  ask 
you,  to  confide  to  my  keeping,  the  happiness  of  your  life, 
more  precious  to  me,  by  far,  than  all  this  world  can  offer." 

"  My  mother,"  was  all  she  could  say,  as  deeply  affected, 
her  head  fell  upon  his  shoulder. 

"  I  understand  you,"  said  Charles,  "  but  there  need  be  no 


184  SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON. 

separation  from  her.  I  have  business  at  Washington  which 
will  engage  me  for  a  considerable  time,  nor  indeed,  is  it 
probable  that  I  shall  continue  in  the  public  service  much 
longer,  under  any  circumstances.  Will  that  do,  dearest  ? 
Say  that  you  will  be  mine.  You  will  not  answer  ?  Then 
tell  me  by  one  look  of  confidence — may  I  say  of  love." 

She  cast  her  dark  eyes  upon  him,  and  he  pressed  her  to 
his  heart,  in  one  long — long  embrace.  » 

"  Charles,"  said  Clara  to  him  the  next  morning,  "  I  wish 
you  would  not  use  some  expressions  to  me  that  you  do. 
You  may  call  me  '  dearest'  as  often  as  you  please,  for  I 
like  that ;  but  pray  do  not  say  *  loveliest,'  any  more.  You 
see  how  old  I  look.  You  know  that  you  told  me,  the  last 
time  I  saw  you,  that  I  was  not  half  so  pretty  as  I  was,  and 
now  you  talk  to  me,  as  if  I  were  prettier  than  ever." 

"  And  so  you  are,"  replied  Charles.  "  You  have  the 
same  dark  eye — the  same  features  and  expression — chast 
ened,  it  is  true,  by  all  you  have  suffered,  but  only  adding 
to  your  loveliness."  Clara  here  raised  her  hand  as  if  to 
stop  him,  but  seizing  it,  and  pressing  it  passionately  to  his 
lips,  "besides,  dearest,"  he  added,  "you  possess  now  the 
greatest  charm  of  all,  'the  beauty  of  holiness.'  But  come, 
give  me  your  company  for  a  walk.  The  weather  is  de 
lightful  ;  exercise  and  air  will  be  of  service  to  you,  and 
will  bring  back  the  rose  to  your  cheek." 

Clara  went  out  for  her  hat,  and  returning  in  a  few  mo 
ments,  placed  her  arm  within  his. 

"  It  is  a  long  while,  Charles,"  she  said,  "  since  we  ram 
bled  together ;  but  often  and  often  have  I  trod  the  path, 
along  which  I  am  about  to  lead  you,  attended  by  Ann, 


SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON.  185 

whom  you  see  now  running  after  me.  For  months,  during 
which  I  suffered  such  mental  agonies,  I  was  accustomed  to 
take  this  path  until  it  comes  to  the  water ;  then  following 
the  shore  for  half  a  mile,  a  slight^levation  of  ground  is 
seen,  and  upon  it,  five  large  oaks.  ^TJpon  a  projecting  root 
of  one,  I  was  used  to  sit.  It  is  a  spot  almost  sacred  to 
me.  But  come  along,  you  must  see  it." 

A  few  minutes  more  brought  them  to  the  place.  The 
elevation  of  the  ground,  though  not  great,  was  sufficient  to 
enlarge  the  beautiful  prospect  which  spread  out  before 
them.  The  oaks  were  the  growth  of  more  than  a  century 
— close  together,  of  great  height,  and  of  the  thickest  foliage 
to  be  seen  upon  that  noblest  tree  of  our  American  forests. 
For  sixty  feet  around  their  trunks,  was  spread  a  verdant 
turf,  here  and  there  enamelled  with  the  violet  and  white 
clover  ;  while  still  further  outwards,  the  wild  honeysuckle 
and  sweet-brier,  growing  in  profusion  and  in  full  bloom, 
flung  their  fragrance  to  the  air.  The  eye  ranged  over  a 
vast  expanse  of  water,  formed  by  an  indent  of  the  Chesa 
peake  ;  on  the  wrestern  shore,  high  hills  appeared  in  the 
distance,  on  the  eastern,  the  flat  surface  peculiar  to  it,  seen 
through  the  mist ;  while  clouds  of  square-rigged  vessels 
from  abroad,  and  the  bay  craft,  whitened  the  water  with 
their  sails,  as  they  bore  to  our  great  port,  the  products  of 
foreign  countries,  or  of  our  own.  The  waves  struck  the 
shore  with  gentle  undulations,  filling  the  ear  with  their  soft 
and  soothing  murmur. 

"  How  very  beautiful !"  said  Charles,  as  his  eye  took  in 
the  whole  view  before  him. 

"  It  is  so,"  replied  Clara,  "  but  it  is  not  that  which  so  en- 


18(5  SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON. 

cleared  it  to  me.  It  was  here  that  I  was  accustomed  to 
come  and  sit  with  our  poor  Frederick,  and  here  I  returned 
so  often,  to  indulge  my  grief  for  his  loss.  It  became  at 
last  so  much  a  habit  witji  me,  that  I  rarely  omitted  a  visit 
to  it,  unless  the  weather  prevented  me.  Under  wrhat  dif 
ferent  circumstances  am  I  now  here  !" 

"  Different  indeed,  dearest !"  said  Charles,  "  and  ever 
adored  be  that  power  and  goodness  whicli  have  thus  per 
mitted  it.  But  sit  down  on  your  old  seat ;  there  is  room 
for  us  both,  I  see,  and  give  me  an  account  of  all  that  you 
have  passed  through,  since  we  last  met ;  and  especially  of 
those  exercises  of  mind  through  which  you  found  the  peace 
that  God  only  can  bestow." 

They  seated  themselves  accordingly,  Clara's  hand  clasped 
in  his,  while  Ann  busied  herself  in  collecting  nosegays  of 
the  flowers  which  were  growing  around. 

"  Do  you  remember,  Charles,"  Clara  began,  "  the  morn 
ing  we  parted  at  Vanderhorn's,  when  I  behaved  so  badly 
to  you  V 

"  Remember  it,"  he  replied  ;  "  how  could  I  ever  forget 
it  ?  Accuse  yourself  of  nothing  upon  that  occasion.  I 
had  no  right  to  take  you  to  task  so  severely,  for  I  was  more 
to  blame  than  you  were,  and  your  reproof  was  what  I  de 
served.  But  it  almost  distracted  me.  I  needed  for  a  long 
time,  all  the  religious  principle  I  could  draw  upon,  to  sus 
tain  myself  under  it ;  and  though  the  disappointment  which 
I  then  considered  as  final,  was  submitted  to  as  a  dispensa 
tion  of  Providence,  still  it  was  severe  indeed." 

"  I  was  about  to  tell  you,"  said  Clara,  "  it  was  from  that 
I  date  the  commencement  of  the  new  views  I  began  to 


SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON.  187 

have  of  life.  I  saw,  that  in  a  moment  of  irritation,  and 
from  feelings,  which  my  pride  whispered  to  me,  you  had 
causelessly  wounded,  I  had  driven  you  from  me  forever. 
This  brought  before  me  the  real  state  of  my  affections  for 
you  ;  and  hopeless  as  my  attachment  was,  this  knowledge 
induced,  a  few  days  after,  a  prompt  rejection  of  Mr. 
Hollis." 

"  Is  it  possible  !"  said  he,  interrupting  her.  "  But  it  was 
nobly  done,  and  like  yourself.  I  never  heard  this  before, 
though  both  my  observation  and  inquiries,  in  which  jeal 
ousy  prompted  me  to  no  little  diligence,  led  me  at  last  to 
believe  it ;  though  I  never  thought  it  had  been  induced  by 
any  preference  for  me.  But,  go  on." 

"  My  attachment  for  you,"  she  continued,  "  founded  upon 
my  respect  for  your  character,  forbade  the  possibility  of  my 
union  with  another,  while  my  feelings  remained  as  they 
were.  But  hope,  as  it  regarded  you,  was  dead  within  me. 
True,  it  revived  for  a  moment  at  Colonel  Beauchamp's,  but 
the  immediate  disappointment  that  followed,  destroyed  it 
again.  I  had,  by  this  time,  known  enough  of  Washington, 
to  be  fully  disgusted  with  it ;  and  Agnes  and  myself  left  it 
for  Baltimore,  in  company  with  Mrs.  Marchmont,  upon  our 
return  home.  My  father  told  us  subsequently,  that  you 
had  called  to  see  us,  but  an  hour  after  we  had  set  off,  and 
this  was  some  relief  to  me ;  but  as  he  told  us  also,  that  you 
were  soon  to  sail  for  Europe,  I  sank  still  deeper  in  gloom. 
I  received  your  letter  from  New  York  with  an  emotion 
which  I  cannot  describe,  and  have  kept  it  to  this  hour. 
How  often  have  I  read  it,  and  re-read  it !  Satisfied  now 
of  your  attachment,  my  mind  sunk  into  resignation  at  the 


188  SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON. 

state,  in  which  I  had  some  indistinct  ideas,  Divine  Provi 
dence  had  placed  me.  Further  than  this,  I  had,  as  yet, 
no  knowledge  of  religion.  What  you  had  frequently  said 
upon  this  subject,  often  recurred  to  my  recollection  ;  but  I 
had  not  been  brought  to  see  the  necessity  of  it,  as  a  rule 
of  conduct,  or  as  a  source  of  happiness.  But  circumstan 
ces  were  rapidly  hastening  this.  The  first  was,  Agnes' 
death.  The  insidious  and  fatal  disease,  which  finally  tore 
from  me  that  gentle  and  lovely  sister,  assumed  its  usual 
appearance,  sometimes  threatening  a  speedy  termination  of 
her  life,  and  then  again  flattering  us  with  the  hope  of  her 
speedy  recovery.  My  mind  was  thus  harassed  and  dis 
tressed  for  two  years.  At  last,  the  blow  so  long  uplifted, 
fell ;  and  I  need  not  say  how  heavy  it  was.  The  long  con 
tinuance  of  her  illness,  however,  and  its  fatal  conclusion, 
were  not  without  their  salutary  effect  upon  myself.  Death, 
as  I  saw,  was  certain  for  all,  and  possible  even  for  the 
young.  A  deep  gloom  now  fell  upon  me.  To  find  myself 
cut  off  in  a  moment,  from  the  society  of  her  with  whom  I 
had  passed  so  many  happy  days,  was  dreadful.  Every 
thing  reminded  me  of  Agnes.  Then  again  would  return 
thoughts  of  the  deep,  dark  grave,  which  must  finally  re 
ceive  us  all ;  then  of  that  other  world  revealed  to  us  in  the 
Scriptures.  My  distress  increased,  but  I  was  yet  far  in 
deed  from  knowing  that  greater  depth  to  which  I  was  to 
sink.  I  had  once  heard  you  describe  your  own  exercises 
of  mind  to  my  mother,  and  remembered  your  solemn  dec 
laration  to  her,  that  we  might  know  our  reconciliation 
with  Heaven,  and  I  never  forgot  it,  even  in  my  gayest  mo- 


SCENES    AT   WASHINGTON.  189 

ments  at  Washington.  But,  strange  to  tell,  I  never  saw 
that  I  was  in  the  very  state  which  you  had  described." 

"  The  Scriptures,  Clara,"  said  Charles,  "  speak  of  this. 
It  was  the  *  light  shining  in  darkness,  but  the  darkness  com 
prehended  it  not.' " 

"I  was  now  wretched,  indeed,"  she  continued.  "My 
father's  pecuniary  embarrassments,  arising  out  of  security 
which  he  had  given  for  others,  who  had  grossly  abused  the 
confidence  which  he  had  placed  in  them,  and  increased  by 
the  distresses  arising  out  of  the  war,  were  bearing  heavily 
upon  us  all.  The  comforts  and  enjoyments  which  we  had 
been  accustomed  to  all  our  lives,  were  no  longer  in  our 
power,  and  it  became  necessary  that  resources  which  my 
father  hitherto  had  disregarded,  should  be  made  available, 
if  possible.  To  accomplish  this,  my  brother  was  sent  to  the 
South.  Letters  from  him  were  received  for  some  months, 
detailing  his  progress,  and  giving  hopes  of  ultimate  suc 
cess,  when  suddenly  they  ceased  altogether.  Week  suc 
ceeded  to  week,  and  we  heard  nothing  ;  and  months  then 
followed,  leaving  us  in  this  fearful  uncertainty.  At  last, 
we  received  intelligence  from  a  gentleman  with  whom  my 
father  had  been  acquainted  in  Congress,  of  his  melancholy 
fate.  He  had  fallen  a  victim  to  the  climate.  Oh  !  that 
day  !  that  dreadful  day !  I  shall  never  forget  it.  The 
gloom  which  had  so  long  hung  upon  me,  now  deepened 
into  the  very  blackness  of  darkness.  Hope  for  this  world 
there  was  none  ;  and  I  turned  to  look  for  it  from  another. 
The  Bible  was  constantly  open  before  me,  and  I  read  it 
incessantly,  with  prayer  to  the  Almighty  for  light.  One 
passage  in  particular,  was  of  the  greatest  .use  to  me.  '  If 


190  SCENES   AT   WASHINGTON. 

any  man  will  do  His  will,  he  shall  know  of  the  doctrine, 
whether  it  be  of  God,  or  whether  I  speak  of  myself.' 
Here  I  took  my  stand,  determined  to  rely  upon  the  promise. 
And  here  I  will  relate  to  you  a  fact,  which  I  assure  you  is 
true,  to  prove  what  a  merciful  and  Almighty  influence  was 
thrown  around  me,  when  my  mind  was  thus  cruelly  exer 
cised.  There  was  a  gentleman  residing  with  us  at  the 
time,  a  brother  of  my  cousin,  whom  you  saw  with  me  in  the 
carriage ;  who  was  in  the  constant  habit  of  denying  the 
truths  of  revelation,  and  ridiculing  the  facts  related  in  the 
Scriptures.  At  first,  his  words  cut  like  swords  ;  but  as 
often  as  he  began,  the  passage  I  have  referred  to  would 
come  up  vividly  to  my  mind.  Thus  I  bore  the  conflict  for 
some  days.  Though  my  faith  in  the  Bible  could  not  be 
overthrown,  it  was  not  such  but  that  cavils  and  objections 
could  make  me  miserable.  But  Heaven  now  interposed  for 
me.  Whatever  was  said,  had  no  longer  the  slightest  effect. 
Indeed,  though  I  distinctly  heard  every  word  that  was  ut 
tered,  they  conveyed  not  one  single  idea  to  my  mind.  I 
have  often  thought,  with  wonder  and  gratitude,  of  this  in 
stance  of  the  Divine  goodness  in  my  unhappy  case  ;  and  I 
doubt  not  that  it  is  very  common,  in  some  measure  or  de 
gree,  with  the  most  of  those  who  are  seeking  reconcilia 
tion  with  God." 

"  No  doubt  of  it,  whatever,"  said  Charles.  "  The  promise 
is,  that  *  He  will  make  a  way  for  their  escape,'  from  the 
temptation.  This  interposition  was  indeed  glorious  ;  yet, 
to  assert  it,  is  considered  as  fanaticism  or  madness  by  the 
world,  though  tens  of  thousands  bear  testimony  to  the 
truth  of  it.  Your  exercises  of  mind  were  indeed  terrific." 


SCENES    AT   WASHINGTON.  191 


"  I  have  not  yet  told  you  the  worst,"  she  replied. 
"  Though  steadfast  in  reading  the  Bible,  it  seemed  to  me 
like  a  sealed  book,  all  except  the  passage  I  have  mentioned. 
Though  constantly  attempting  to  pray,  I  was  not  able.  My 
distress  became  greater  and  greater.  Often  have  I  thrown 
myself  upon  my  bed,  in  an  agony  of  mind  which  words 
cannot  describe.  To  sleep  was  out  of  the  question  ;  night 
after  night  passed  away,  and  I  never  closed  my  eyes  till 
the  morning.  My  health  was  now  injured,  but  it  was  not 
regarded  for  a  moment  amidst  the  mental  torments  which 
I  experienced  incessantly.  That  it  was  necessary  I  should 
pass  through  all  this,  I  have  never  doubted,  but  I  have  often 
thought,  that  if  the  votaries  of  what  are  called  innocent 
pleasures  and  amusements,  must  needs  know  the  bitter 
and  protracted  distress  of  mind  that  I  did,  what  must  be 
the  tremendous  horrors  experienced  by  those,  whose  con 
sciences  are  made  to  feel  the  guilt  of  a  life  blackened  by 
crimes  that  debase  our  nature  and  dishonor  our  Creator  !" 

"  I  have  thought  much  myself,  upon  this  subject,"  said 
Charles.  "It  is  the  alienation  of  the  heart  from  the  Su 
preme  and  only  Good,  that  induces  a  lesser  or  greater  de 
gree  of  misery.  '  She  that  liveth  in  pleasure,'  says  the 
apostle,  *  is  dead  while  she  liveth.'  The  language  is  very 
strong.  The  pursuit  of  pleasure,  then,  may  induce,  in  the 
female  mind,  as  great  an  alienation  from  God,  as  the 
extremes  of  sensuality  may  induce  in  men.  '  She  is  dead 
while  she  liveth.'  To  give  life  from  this  terrific  state,  is 
indeed  a  work  which  none  but  Omnipotence  can  effect,  and 
to  begin,  and  carry  it  on  to  its  stupendous  and  glorious  re 
sults,  consideration  must  be  produced  and  continued,  until 


192  SCENES   AT   WASHINGTON. 

the  sou],  feeling  its  depravity  and  guilt,  and  its  wretched, 
lost  state,  seeks  at  last,  help  and  reconciliation  through  the 
Redeemer  of  the  world." 

"  So  I  found  it  to  be,"  she  replied.  "  But  what  a  strug 
gle  !  It  was  while  I  was  in  this  deep  distress,  that  I  wrote 
to  you,  addressed  to  Charleston ;  where,  I  saw  from  the 
public  papers,  you  were  stationed.  Perhaps  I  ought  not  to 
have  done  this,  after  all  that  had  passed  between  us  :  but 
indeed,  I  thought  of  nothing  at  the  time,  but  how  I  might 
obtain  some  advice  in  my  miserable  state.  As  I  never  re 
ceived  an  answer,  I  then  believed  you  considered  that  I 
had  departed  from  the  decorum  of  my  sex." 

"  Dearest  and  best,"  said  Charles,  interrupting  her,  "  how 
could  you  think  so  hardly  of  me,  for  a  moment  ?  I  never 
received  your  letter ;  it  was  not  even  put  into  the  post- 
office."  He  then  related  what  Mr.  Saunders  had  told  him 
in  New  Orleans  ;  and  told  her  also,  how  this  information, 
and  the  impressions  respecting  her  so  strangely  made  upon 
him,  had  brought  him  to  her.  "  See  then,  beloved,"  he 
continued,  "  see  the  hand,  and  adore  the  goodness  which,  at 
the  best  time,  can  accomplish  its  purposes.  The  circum 
stances  have  all  been  too  strongly  marked,  not  to  compel 
our  belief  in  an  overruling  and  gracious  Providence  that 
has  appointed  them.  This  manifestation  of  the  goodness 
of  God,  it  was  our  privilege  to  expect,  as  His  children. 
He  has  granted  it  to  us  as  our  Father." 

"  I  see  it,  and  feel  it  to  be  so,"  she  replied.  "  This,  then, 
is  Christianity !  And  oh  !  how  glorious  !  how  perfect  in 
its  work  upon  the  soul !  how  watchful  in  its  providence 


SCENES    AT   WASHINGTON.  193 

over  its  followers !  How  is  it,  Charles,  that  the  whole 
world  does  not  love  it  as  we  do  ?" 

"  Ah  !  dearest,"  said  he,  "  the  world  is  at  enmity  with 
our  Lord,  '  because  its  deeds  are  evil.'  I  thought,  when  I 
first  received  the  knowledge  of  Christ,  by  the  witness  of 
the  Spirit,  that  I  had  nothing  to  do  but  to  declare  what  I 
had  experienced,  and  all  would  believe.  A  little  while, 
however,  was  sufficient  to  convince  me  of  my  error.  One 
would  laugh,  another  scoff,  and  almost  all  paid  no  attention 
to  what  I  said.  But  proceed." 

"  This  was  my  state,"  Clara  continued,  "  when  I  wrote 
to  you.  I  continued  my  search  without  intermission,  but 
was  attended  with  the  most  horrible  temptations.  At  one 
time  it  was  suggested  to  me,  to  cease  praying ;  at  another 
self-destruction  ;  but  still  I  resisted,  and  still  sought  the  Sa 
viour.  At  length,  as  I  sat  one  morning  in  my  room,  alone, 
reading  a  religious  book,  and  never  more  wretched  at  any 
moment  of  my  existence,  the  witness  that  God  was  recon 
ciled  through  Jesus  Christ,  was  given  to  me.  I  passed  in  a 
moment  from  the  depth  of  wretchedness  to  a  height  of  joy 
that  none  can  possibly  conceive  of  that  have  never  known 
it.  The  evidence  of  our  Lord's  presence  was  as  plain  to 
me  as  any  object  in  nature  to  my  senses.  Tears  of  joy 
poured  from  my  eyes,  while  my  tongue  gave  instant  and 
rapturous  expressions  of  gratitude  and  praise.  The  first 
words  I  uttered  were,  *  truth — truth.'  Charles  !  Charles  ! 
even  now,  as  I  am  telling  you,  I  feel  a  measure  of  that 
glorious  manifestation  that  I  then  first  knew." 

She  lifted  her  sweet  face  to  Heaven,  in  adoration,  cov- 

9 


194  SCENES   AT   WASHINGTON. 

ered  with  tears.  Charles,  not  less  affected,  drew  her  ten 
derly  towards  him.  Neither  could  speak  for  some  time. 

"  Clara,"  said  Charles,  at  length,  "  to  hear  all  this  from 
your  own  lips,  is  happiness  indeed.  In  our  union  for  life, 
we  both  have  now  *  an  anchor  sure  and  steadfast,'  by 
which  we  may  be  well  able  to  outride  all  the  storms  that 
can  assail  us." 

*'  What  storms,  Charles,"  she  asked, "  can  now  assail  me  ? 
I  know  not." 

"  That  they  may  be  few,  dearest,"  he  replied,  "  is  what  1 
pray  for.  But  the  warfare  is  not  over,  for  our  enemies  are 
not  destroyed.  *  Watch  and  pray,  that  ye  enter  not  into 
temptation,'  is  the  command  of  our  Lord.  In  our  hour  of 
need,  we  now  know  to  whom  we  can  go,  in  full  confidence 
of  deliverance,  for  '  we  have  not  an  High  Priest  w7ho  can 
not  be  touched  with  a  feeling  of  our  infirmities,  but  who 
was,  in  all  points,  tempted  like  as  we  are,  yet  without  sin. 
He  knoweth  how  to  deliver.'  The  God  of  our  nature  must 
be  the  God  of  our  salvation.  If  we  abide  in  him,  we  need 
fear  nothing.  He  is  as  willing  as  able  to  deliver ;  He  has 
died  to  redeem  us  ;  He  has  told  us,  '  He  has  loved  us  so 
well,  that  He  will  not  dwell  in  the  mountain  of  Sion  alone.' 
He  has  declared  to  us,  that  *  we  shall  be  like  Him,  for  we 
shall  see  Him  as  He  is.'  With  this  hope,  and  with  the 
*  earnest'  we  have  of  our  bright  inheritance,  we  will  travel 
our  road  together.  Fear  nothing,  dearest ;  infinite  power, 
wisdom,  and  love,  are  all  united  to  bear  us  safely  along." 

He  raised  her  from  her  seat  as  he  was  speaking,  and 
drawing  her  arm  within  his,  they  returned  to  the  house, 
interchanging  still  the  sentiments  which  the  strong  bond 


SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON.  195 

of  union  that  unites  all  believers  in  Christ,  had  now  made 
more  endearing  and  engrossing.  Death  may,  indeed,  de 
stroy  the  ties  of  earth,  so  wisely  intended  for  the  happiness 
of  life,  but  over  that  which  connects  the  followers  of  our 
Lord,  it  can  have  no  power.  In  this  world,  it  is  the  ear 
nest  of  our  glorious  inheritance  to  come,  and  we  carry  it 
into  that  blissful  state  to  which  the  Christian  is  rapidly  has 
tening,  while  eternity  itself  will  only  serve  to  increase  it. 


It  was  some  months  since,  that  business  carried  me  to 
Che  residence  of  my  old  friends.  I  had  long  been  on  the 
most  intimate  terms  of  friendship  with  Leslie,  which  had 
been  increased  by  many  scenes  we  had  passed  through  to 
gether,  during  the  eventful  period  of  the  last  war  with 
Great  Britain.  Separated  a  long  distance  at  the  time  peace 
was  proclaimed,  and  that  separation  continued  afterwards 
by  my  visits  to  many  parts  of  Europe,  we  had  not  met  for 
years.  My  wish  to  see  my  old  friend  once  more — to  talk 
over  old  times,  became  intense.  As  I  approached  his  resi 
dence,  I  ordered  my  servant  to  turn  in  at  the  gate,  from 
which  his  house  was  about  a  mile  distant.  Leslie  recog 
nized  me  as  soon  as  I  alighted,  and  running  out  to  me,  gave 
me  one  of  those  cordial  receptions  which  old  and  tried 
friends  are  wont  to  give.  Upon  entering  the  dining-room, 
I  found  Mrs.  Leslie  seated  in  her  arm-chair,  but  little  the 
worse  in  her  appearance,  notwithstanding  that  nearly  thirty 
years  had  passed  over  in  her  married  state.  On  her  lap 
was  a  beautiful  little  girl  of  three  or  four  years  of  age. 


196  SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON. 

"  Sam,  this  is  my  second  son,  George,"  said  Leslie,  in  his 
old  familiar  way,  introducing  me  to  an  elegant  young  man 
of  twenty-one  or  two  years  of  age.  "  Our  eldest,  Frederic 
Sydenham,  resides  in  Baltimore.  The  little  girl  that  you 
see  on  Mrs.  Leslie's  lap,  is  his  daughter.  You  will  per 
ceive,  then,  that  I  am  spreading  into  two  bands,  like  old 
Jacob  ;  and  shall  finally  be  entitled  to  take  the  place  of 
honor  of  you,  notwithstanding  your  right  of  entree  to  the 
Senate  by  resolution  of  that  honorable  body.  I  could  rate 
you  soundly,  even  now,  for  your  bachelor  propensities, 
and  your  indifference  to  Lucy  Fairfax,  some  thirty  years 
since." 

"  Pray  Charles,  stop,"  I  interrupted  him.  "  If  I  am  not 
spreading  out  myself  into  two  bands  as  you  are,  I  am  pretty 
well  represented  by  six  nephews,  and  ten  grand  nephews 
and  nieces  ;  and  this  counts  very  well,  I  think." 

"  No,  no,"  he  rejoined,  "  your  plea  is  not  a  good  one. 
What  do  you  say  to  it,  Clara  ?" 

"  I  cannot  allow  it,"  said  Mrs.  Leslie  ;  "  and  indeed,  I  well 
remember  the  report  that  our  friend  was  in  the  good  graces 
of  Miss  Fairfax." 

"  You  see,  Sam,"  said  Leslie,  "  you  are  cast,  but" 

"  '  No  more  of  that,  Hal,  an  thoulov'st  me,"  I  replied,  in 
terrupting  him  ;  then  turning  the  conversation  into  another 
channel,  we  held  on  a  long  time,  and  much  to  the  purpose, 
as  became  our  years  and  gravity.  In  this  agreeable  manner, 
a  whole  week  passed  away,  during  which,  notwithstand 
ing  rny  bachelor  state,  I  was  much  edified  by  the  confi 
dence  and  affection  of  which  I  saw  constant  proofs,  and  the 
full  testimony,  in  the  lives  of  my  old  friends,  of  the  happi- 


SCENES   AT  WASHINGTON.  197 

ness,  which,  founded  upon  Christianity,  could  not  fail  to 
perpetuate  and  increase.  It  was  during  this  time  also,  that 
I  got  possession  of  the  facts  contained  in  this  narrative  ;  and 
I  assure  my  readers,  that  little  of  the  embellishments  of 
fiction  are  added  to  the  story  which  I  have  thus  ventured 
to  lay  before  them. 


THE    END. 


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82  Cliff  Street,  New  York,  Nov.,  1847. 


14  DAY  USE 

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